


Demons of DC

by Laimelde



Category: Angel: the Series, Buffy the Vampire Slayer, NCIS
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-23
Updated: 2014-08-24
Packaged: 2018-02-14 08:26:07
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 15
Words: 46,064
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2184747
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Laimelde/pseuds/Laimelde
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Xander joins NCIS and has to prove himself to become a proper Federal Agent. Keeping his past secret is hard enough by itself -will he be able to do so when the supernatural manages to find him in DC?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is a re-post from ff.net // Yes, I'm jumping on the "Xander becomes an NCIS Agent" bandwagon, because frankly, it's a great wagon and there ought to be more of it. 
> 
> This is set post-series for BtVS and AtS, and somewhere after Season 5 for NCIS (ie, Vance is Director). The timelines don't add up at all; try not to hurt your head thinking about it too much, just go with the flow :) 
> 
> I've also taken some liberties with Riley's rank and unit -the writers on Buffy were intentionally vague about whether the Initiative was Army or Marines, and Finn's title was 'Agent', which isn't a rank in either. For the purposes of this story, Riley was a marine, and he's gained a few ranks since the events in Sunnydale.
> 
> FLETC stands for Federal Law Enforcement Training Centre. It's been briefly mentioned on NCIS once or twice, and Wikipedia indicates thats where most if not all federal officers do training courses.

Xander Harris shifted nervously in the formal office and wondered if this was really the right place to be. Of all the things he'd imagined doing when he grew up, this hadn't ever made the list. The closest he'd ever come to considering law enforcement was when the school career fair had him pegged as a 'prison guard'. Yeah, right.

But a lot had changed since then. After Sunnydale had turned into a giant sinkhole, he'd gone abroad with the gang, and they'd started rebuilding a more modern version of the Watcher's Council, and networking to find and train all the new Slayers that were out there. Pretty quickly though, Xander found it wasn't to his liking. The way things were going, he was going to end up as either a manager-type, stuck in an office ordering supplies and working out schedules, or as the janitor. He didn't suit the first and there was no way he'd do the second.

And there was also that feeling that he'd never had the chance to do what _he_ wanted; that somehow, everything he'd done since Buffy moved to Sunnydale had been in some way dictated by the supernatural. There was that half-decent stint in construction he'd done after high school, and that had been pretty good. But if he went back to that for life, he could only see himself turning out like his father. No thanks.

So, he'd talked to Willow. And Buffy. And Dawn. And Andrew (who couldn't understand why he didn't want to become a Watcher like he was). And even Faith ('Do what you gotta do, bro'). And finally, he'd spoken to Giles. Who had been the one to suggest he look into some aspect of law enforcement, since he'd liked being able to help people so much over the years. And had offered to loan him the money for college, from the bountiful coffers the old Watcher's Council had left behind.

Before long, he'd moved back to the States - to Baltimore, which was happily far, far away from where Sunnydale used to be. This was a new start.

The only real downside was how quickly he'd lost touch with the Scoobies. They hadn't meant for it to happen of course, and he still sent and received the occasional email from Dawn, or Giles. But for the most part everyone was so busy with other things: travelling round the world, training up new Slayers, and - of course - the actual slaying. He lived in a completely different world now, and brief emails had only scratched the surface of what was happening on each end. Eventually they'd faded to only a few times a year plus an annual Christmas e-Card.

Director Vance cleared his throat and Xander quickly focussed on the man seated at the desk in front of him. He resisted the urge to scratch his forehead; the elastic on his eye patch wasn't sitting quite flat. Vance was flicking through his resume with a frown. The receptionist's voice came over the intercom.

_"They're here, Director."_

"Send them in."

The door to Xander's right opened and two men walked in to stand beside him. The first was an older man, hair turning silver-white but still maintained in a marine cut. He glanced at Xander with an appraising look. The other was young, skinny and well-dressed, and openly curious about Xander's presence. Both turned to face the director.

"You wanted to see us?" the older man stated.

"Gibbs." Director Vance wasted no time. "I have some news, and you're not going to like it."

"Nothing new there, Leon," Gibbs drawled.

"You know Ken Winters, head of the Cyber Crime Unit? He's been diagnosed with a serious illness, he'll be off on personal leave for several months at least. We have several major operations active in that unit, and we can't afford to put them on hold. Nor do I like any of his staff for his position. They are brilliant at what they do of course, but they lack leadership qualities."

Gibbs glanced over at the man who had entered with him and back at Vance. "You splitting up my team again? I thought you realised what a bad idea that was last time."

"I don't feel I have a choice here, Gibbs. I need someone, and McGee has the necessary skills. The other staff down there already respect him, and he's more than capable."

"Er, thank you for the vote of confidence, Director," said the other man, McGee. Vance nodded in acknowledgement. "But I'm not sure I'm ready for this. I mean, yeah, I worked with those guys before but - head of the unit?"

"You'll do fine, Agent McGee," Vance smiled. "It's only temporary, in any case. Once Winters returns, you'll re-join Gibbs' team. Or alternatively, if it turns out he won't be coming back, we'll start the process of finding a permanent replacement. We just don't have time to go through that now. I need someone who can go down there and pick up where Winters left off straight away."

McGee nodded, still looking a bit uncertain but mostly mollified by the Director's faith in him. Gibbs was glaring like he'd like to kill someone.

"So my team is one short for the next few months?"

"Well, no." Vance's eyes flicked over to Xander for the first time since the other men had walked in. Gibbs saw it, and turned to give Xander another look. A much angrier, far more intimidating look. Xander self-consciously straightened into a military bearing. "This is Alexander Harris. I've been asked to find a place for him here."

"Asked?" Gibbs growled, still glaring at Xander. "You have friends in high places, boy? Daddy pull some strings?"

"Gibbs," Vance said, with a warning in his voice. Xander was relieved when Gibbs turned back to the Director. The Director addressed them both.

"This is how it's going to go. Harris will take McGee's place. You will put him through his paces, teach him what you can, see how he goes. When McGee is clear to return to your team, you'll give me a report on how Harris went. Depending on your report, we may or may not send him to FLETC and find him a permanent place on another team. Is that understood?"

Xander nodded but Gibbs wasn't done.

"In case you hadn't noticed Leon, he's only got one eye. He'll be a liability in the field."

That was Xander's cue. "If I may?" Vance nodded and Gibbs turned to face him. "My vision and depth perception are better than you might think, sir. I'd like a chance to prove myself."

Gibbs' glare searched him for a moment longer. Xander held himself still and forced himself to meet his gaze. Finally, Gibbs grunted. "Don't call me sir."

Vance smiled as though Gibbs had given his blessing. "Good. McGee, if you can get any last reports finished up and then clear your desk for Harris. The sooner you can start catching up on where Winters and his teams are up to, the better. Harris, you'll have McGee's desk in the bullpen." He handed the file containing Xander's information to Gibbs. "Thank you gentlemen."

They filed out and down to the bullpen. Another tall brunette sat at the corner desk as Gibbs passed him.

"Bad news, boss?"

Gibbs didn't look round. "Meet the new head of the Cyber Crime Unit, DiNozzo."

DiNozzo looked around and spotted Xander approaching behind McGee. He looked him up and down. "You don't look nerdy enough to be head of cyber. No offence," he grinned.

Xander shook his head. "Not me. Him." He indicated McGee, who was passing DiNozzo's desk on his way to his own. DiNozzo's jaw dropped.

"Vance is splitting us up again?"

"It's only me and it's only temporary, Tony," McGee explained patiently.

"How long? A week? A month?" Tony demanded.

"Several months at least, maybe a bit more," McGee admitted.

Tony's mouth opened and closed like a goldfish for a few moments.

"Can it, DiNozzo," ordered Gibbs before the other man had managed a single word. "Where's David?"

"Here, Gibbs." A beautiful woman with olive skin and an accent Xander couldn't pick walked into the bullpen. She gave Xander a curious glance as she passed out coffees from the tray in her hand. She frowned when she got to McGee's desk and saw him packing up. "What's going on?"

Gibbs ignored her question. "McGee, do what you have to do. Harris, DiNozzo, David: with me." He grabbed his new coffee and strode out of the bullpen.

Two minutes later, all four were crowded into a spare interrogation room. Gibbs seated himself and indicated for Xander to sit opposite. Behind him, Tony and the woman leaned against the wall, either side of the one-way mirror. Gibbs flicked through Xander's file. He spoke without glancing up.

"DiNozzo, David: meet Alexander Harris. The Director has assigned him to our team whilst McGee is temporarily heading up Cyber. Harris, these are Special Agents Anthony DiNozzo and Ziva David."

The three nodded politely to each other.

"Ah, excuse me if this is inappropriate," said Ziva. "But is he supposed to be joining us as a field agent? Will there not be a problem in the field if he only has one eye?"

Gibbs looked up at Xander, allowing him the chance to answer her.

"My depth perception is remarkably good for someone in my situation," Xander replied. "Most doctors have tried to tell me it isn't possible for it to be as good as it is."

"So your eye is actually missing?" asked Tony. "How did you lose it?"

Xander smiled; this was a question he got a lot, and he knew how to answer it. "Long story. There was this accident involving a priest, and, well, _before_ the accident there were these girls -so many girls! And there was lots and lots of wine. Might have been a whole winery in fact. And then there was the priest..."

"Harris!" Gibbs barked. "You could have left it at 'an accident'."

"Right. Sorry."

"Rule six," stated Gibbs.

"Never apologise," said Tony.

"It's a sign of weakness," finished Ziva. Tony and Ziva grinned at each other behind Gibbs' head.

"Ah, excuse another possibly inappropriate personal question," Tony said. "But most people don't get eye patches these days - they get glass eyes put in. You can't usually even tell that they're missing an eye until you look close."

Xander shrugged. "The damage to my eye socket was severe -they would have had to do reconstruction and months of plastic surgery before we could even look at a false eye. And there were complications at the time - it couldn't be done straight away. By the time I could look at those options it was mostly healed and I had gotten used to the eye patch. I didn't want to go through all the pain of having the wounds opened up again."

"Can we see what's under the patch?" asked Tony eagerly.

"No."

"Enough about the eye," Gibbs interrupted gruffly, though he no longer sounded angry. "You just graduated from University of Baltimore, with a BS majoring in Criminal Justice?"

"That's right."

"A degree you didn't start until 5 years after high school?"

"Ah." Xander thought about how to explain that. "It took me a bit to decide what direction I wanted to go in. I tried a few jobs, travelled a bit, then came back and enrolled."

Gibbs seemed to accept that. "Your references. One from the head of your program at Baltimore; he was impressed with your dedication and consistent marks. Another is from a 'Rupert Giles'?"

Again, Xander had to figure out how to explain that. "He was librarian at my high school for several years. He became a bit of a father figure to me. We still keep in touch, occasionally."

Gibbs flicked through a few pages to check something. "Says your parents are both still alive."

"Mm-hmm." Xander didn't want to go there, and Gibbs looked at him questioningly but didn't push it.

"Okay. Your last reference is from Major Riley Finn. He's the reason you're sitting in front of me?"

"Yes sir. I mean, Gibbs."

"You asked him to get you a job here?"

"Oh, no. He heard what I was studying and that I was due to graduate, said he'd like to do me a favour and that you were good people here."

In the background Tony grinned widely at the description of NCIS.

"How do you know Major Finn? Why the interest in doing you a favour?"

Xander tried to remember what Riley had told him to say. "The year after high school, there was a classified op in my home town. Riley was one of the leaders. I stumbled across it accidentally, ended up being brought on board as a sort of civilian consultant."

"No record of it here," noted Gibbs.

"A classified op on a civilian resume?" asked Xander. "Of course there's not."

Gibbs grunted. "In his reference Finn describes you as practical, quick on your feet, reliable under pressure and courageous. 'The kind of man you can trust to have your back.' What kind of civilian consultant needs to demonstrate that sort of behaviour?"

Xander shrugged helplessly. "I believe I'm not permitted to tell you anything else about it."

Gibbs glared menacingly at him but Xander just shrugged again.

"DiNozzo."

"Yeah boss?"

"Find out where Major Finn is currently stationed. If it's not DC, organise MTAC time with him."


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have never been to a firing range, and the only gun I've ever used was a rifle, not a pistol. Therefore, I've not fussed too much with technical and safety details in this. Call it literary licence.

Xander followed his new boss and teammates into the firing range and wondered how this was going to go. His depth perception wasn't an issue - Willow had fixed that for him shortly after he'd lost his eye. Conjuring up a new new eye or returning his old one had been too powerful a spell for her at the time - she'd been afraid to do it without the Devon coven's assistance. But a spell to give him perfect depth perception? That she could do. And he was glad - he might not have made it out of the last battle in Sunnydale if he couldn't judge the right moment to swing at the next foe.

That was ancient history now, but he still found himself appreciating the depth perception spell. His options as a one-eyed man would have been so much more limited otherwise.

"So, Alex - can I call you Alex? Ever fired a weapon before?" asked Tony cheerfully.

"Actually, I've never been an Alex," Xander replied. "It's Xander. And no." Xander figured his brief tenure as a soldier that Halloween in high school didn't count. Besides, if he said yes, he'd have to explain when and where and how much experience he had. No was the easier answer.

"Xander? Right. Well, it takes a bit to get good but if you get down here regularly I'm sure you'll qualify in the next few weeks."

Gibbs handed him a pistol. Xander recognised it as a SIG Sauer P228, also known as a M11 to the US military. He held it in both hands, slightly surprised by how comfortable it felt. He realised Gibbs was speaking.

"... but in the US military forces it's known as a M11. You hold it in your right hand with your left over it like..." Gibbs trailed off as he noticed Xander already holding the gun properly. Without thinking Xander grabbed the loaded magazine sitting in front of him, clicked it into the gun and pulled back the slide. Then resumed the two-handed hold and lined up the target. He concentrated on the distant figure and pulled the trigger. When the magazine was empty, he automatically removed it and double-checked the chamber was empty before placing the gun down. Then turned to see his team staring at him.

"Something you want to tell me, Harris?" demanded Gibbs. Xander realised the Halloween night when he became a soldier had counted after all. Everything he'd just done felt so comfortable, so normal. He'd practically become the soldier again, just for those few moments. That's how he'd recognised the pistol; known how to load it and check it was empty when he was done. All the years of training that the soldier would have been through were his, and the memories came back as if they'd never been gone.

"Harris!" came Gibbs' voice again.

"Yes, sir!" Xander shook his head as if to clear his thoughts. "Um, I mean, boss." Damn, that soldier really had a hold on him.

"You said you've never fired a gun?" asked Tony. He pressed a button and the paper target flew towards them.

"That's right."

"Ziva?" asked Gibbs. Xander turned to see the woman appraising him.

"He has a military stance and perfect grip, and countered the recoil like someone with much experience. And I think the target says everything we need to know about his aim."

Xander turned to check the target and saw a spread of thirteen holes over the chest area of the figure, spread out wide but all hits. Gibbs stepped up so that their noses were almost touching, and Xander unconsciously straightened to attention.

"Care to explain that, Harris?"

"Uh, beginner's luck?"

Gibbs snorted, clearly disbelieving. "This have something to do with that classified op?"

Xander shook his head. "No. You think there's any way they'd give a civilian a weapon? Even if I did have two eyes back then."

Gibbs stared at him a moment longer but seemed to read the honesty in that statement, at least. He stepped back, still angry but apparently aware he wasn't going to get any answers right now.

"DiNozzo, David, grab your weapons. We've got an hour here, might as well use it."

* * *

After continuing to shoot well and proving beyond a doubt that it wasn't beginners luck, Xander spent several long days at his desk, reading through a mountain of files. Gibbs had been less than impressed with Xander's refusal to admit he'd ever used firearms before, and Xander was pretty sure his current task was supposed to be some kind of punishment. In theory, going through all the team's case files for the last few months was supposed to give him some idea of how wide-ranging and complex their cases could be. In practice, Gibbs seemed to think that reading the technical and often repetitive reports from forensics, autopsy and field agents would wear down Xander's enthusiasm. For the most part though, Xander didn't mind. It was kind of like a cross between the old days in Sunnydale and his more recent years at college. Only, the reading matter was more interesting than his college textbooks, and the files were all printed and in English, unlike the handwritten tomes Giles had them poring over.

Tony stood up and dropped a finished report on Gibbs' desk.

"Hey boss, I was thinking, since we don't have a case right now, might be a good opportunity to take Xander down and show him the lab and autopsy?"

Gibbs didn't look up. "Yeah, sure, give him the tour," he replied dismissively.

Tony grinned at Xander who quickly shut the file he was reading through and followed him to the elevator.

The lift doors opened to the sound of heavy metal drowning out all other noise. Xander followed Tony in to see a tall gothic girl nodding along as she concentrated on something under the microscope. Tony walked over to the stereo and turned the volume down, and the girl looked up in surprise.

"Tony! You know Gibbs is the only one allowed to do that!"

"Sorry Abbs," Tony grinned, not looking sorry at all. "Abby, this is Xander Harris. Xander, this is Abby Sciuto, our brilliant forensics specialist."

Abby whirled around to meet the newcomer. "Xander! Great to meet you! What are you doing... wait a second." She turned on Tony with a frown. "He's not a new lab assistant is he?"

Tony laughed. "No, he's the new Probie."

Abby was immediately all smiles again. "Oh, you must be McGee's replacement while he's being the big boss of cyber. He told me all about that at lunch yesterday. It kinda sucks for the team, but at least he's not far away, you know? So, how are you getting on with Gibbs?"

The question was phrased innocently enough but there was something in Abby's eyes that made him think it might be a trap. A quick glance at Tony confirmed he should tread carefully here. But what was the right answer?

"Uh, I don't think he likes me. But hopefully that will change."

He must have passed some sort of test because Abby laughed openly. "Well of course he doesn't like you yet, Gibbs doesn't warm to any new agent that fast. Don't go thinking he hates you though, you just gotta be yourself and do your job well, and he'll warm up. So, what happened to your eye?"

Xander laughed. Abby didn't hold anything back. "An accident involving a priest and some beautiful girls and lots of wine."

"Ooh, do tell!"

"Well, actually, there's not much more to tell. There was an accident, now I'm down to one eye."

Abby could take a hint with the best of them. "Well, let's hope there aren't any more accidents. Meanwhile, I'm up to my ears in evidence for this case that Fallon's team are working, so, was good to meet you Xander!" She shooed them towards the door.

Xander and Tony obediently left and they heard the volume on the music go back up just as the elevator doors closed. Tony punched the number for the next floor down and they stepped out into autopsy.

"Hope you don't have a weak stomach, Harris," commented Tony.

"I think I can handle it," Xander grinned.

They walked into autopsy to see two men leaning over a body. Tony made the introductions.

"Ah, so you're Alexander. I did hear there was a new face about the building," said Ducky. "Mr Palmer, if I could have an evidence jar for this, please?"

Jimmy obediently held one out for the bullet Ducky had in the tweezers. Xander had to admit, seeing a body opened this way was a little disturbing. Especially a human body. But he'd seen enough guts and gore in his time to not let it affect him. Ducky glanced up at him.

"Just so you know, Alexander, my office is always open, regardless of whether the injuries are physical or emotional. If you need anything, even just an ear and a cup of tea, please do come see me."

Xander nodded. "Thank you, I'll keep that in mind."

They headed back to the elevator and Tony took him down to see the evidence garage, which was full of people bringing in boxes for another team's case. On the way back to the bullpen, Tony glanced at him.

"Questions, Probie?"

"A few," he admitted. "First, 'probie'?"

"Short for probationary agent. And for the record, McGee has been here more than five years, and I still call him Probie. Don't expect it to go away any time soon."

Xander smiled -he didn't mind it, it was more like friendly teasing than the true bullying he'd sometimes had in high school. Made him part of the team. "Okay. Abby's question about Gibbs?"

"Ah, yes. I am proud of you for spotting that. Could have gotten messy if you'd answered wrong."

"I'm still not sure what the wrong answer was."

Tony chuckled. "Abby has worked with Gibbs even longer than I have. They are each other's number one fans. Do not insult either one where the other might hear it."

Okay, that made sense. "So my comment about Gibbs not liking me was okay?"

"Well yeah, didn't you hear what she said? Gibbs doesn't like anyone new. Especially when his team's been broken up at the same time. You drew the short straw there, kid." Tony paused. "You know, it doesn't help that Gibbs thinks you're holding back on us. Makes it hard to trust a man."

Xander grimaced at that but there was nothing he could say to fix it. The elevator dinged and they walked back to the bullpen. Xander was relieved to see Gibbs wasn't at his desk.

"So, what about Ducky then? A man who insists on being known by his nickname, but calls everyone else by their full first name?"

Ziva, sitting at her desk, smiled. "Ducky is a true character, no? Although, he doesn't call Jimmy by his first name," she observed.

"No, because it sounds like a nickname," Tony explained. "Jimmy's full name is 'Jim', not 'James', but he doesn't like being called Jim. So, to be formal, Ducky has to call him Mr Palmer."

Xander had to admit, in the perspective of the strange medical examiner, that probably made sense.

Ziva coughed pointedly, and Tony immediately started tapping at his computer.

"Look busy," he hissed. A moment later Xander saw Gibbs out of the corner of his eye, coming down the stairs. He strode over to stand in front of Xander's desk. Xander looked up at him, nerves showing in the face of an unyielding stare.

"Uh, have I done something?" he managed.

"Just spoke to Major Finn in MTAC."

Xander sat up. "Did he tell you anything about what happened? With the classified op?"

"No."

Xander's face must have shown a brief flash of disappointment, because surprise registered on Gibbs' face.

"You expected he would?"

"Well, no, I suppose not." Now that Xander thought about it, it was a ridiculous notion. Of course Riley wouldn't tell Gibbs about the op, since that would involve mentioning demons. What a stupid thought that had been. But now Gibbs seemed to be waiting for him to say something more. "It's just... it would have been nice to be allowed to talk about it, that's all," he finished somewhat lamely.

Gibbs' gaze seemed to soften a bit. Maybe he felt reassured that Xander wasn't holding back information for the wrong reasons.

"He was surprised to hear about your eye," Gibbs commented.

Xander shrugged. "Well I had two when I last saw Riley, five or six years ago. He heard about my studies through mutual friends and contacted me about the reference and a job. The accident where I lost my eye was about four years ago. It's old news, so probably our friends wouldn't have thought to mention it."

Gibbs nodded. "He also said you were good in a fight when he knew you."

"Really? He said that?" Xander was surprised. He'd always been one of the weakest fighters amongst the varying group in Sunnydale.

"Well, yeah, Harris. I don't make this stuff up," drawled Gibbs with an exasperated air. "Said he'd seen you take on guys with superior strength and generally come out on top." Xander almost snorted, but stopped himself in time. Superior strength? Supernatural strength, more like. But still, most of those times he'd been fighting as part of a team, not on his own, and it was almost always kill or be killed. Nothing like a life or death situation to improve your reflexes.

Gibbs turned to address the team. "Since we don't have anything better to do, let's get down to the gym and we can see for ourselves how good Harris is."

Tony whooped and Ziva smiled as Xander's heart sank. This could not be good.


	3. Chapter 3

Xander soon found himself wearing a set of sweats belonging to Gibbs, who had advised him to make sure he brought in a set of his own to keep at work, along with a complete set of spare work clothes. Gibbs had at first told them Ziva was going to fight Xander, until Tony commented that she 'would probably kill the probie'. So now he was going to face Tony first, and then - if he was any good - he would also fight Ziva.

Xander was not looking forward to this. He'd kept his fitness up whilst in college, but mostly through running and the odd game of basketball with some of his college friends. He hadn't fought Sunnydale-style since, well, Sunnydale. And actually, now he thought about it, Sunnydale-style probably wasn't going to help much here. There, you were usually only looking to survive long enough to get in one good blow to the chest. With a weapon. And when that blow hit home, you could be assured that the enemy would stop fighting back. So it didn't matter if that last blow left you open. How was he going to fight a human? He had only ever fought to kill - never to 'win' in any other way. He had a decent idea about blocking attacks, but figured his fighting style was probably more 'girl' and less 'street'. And there was no wooden stake here to deal an absolute victory. Oh god. This could not go well.

Tony was waiting on the mats, jumping around like a kid who had eaten too much cotton candy. Ziva was laughing at him and teasing him about something. Xander walked slowly towards them, feeling more and more uncomfortable with every step.

"Harris."

Xander looked over and saw Gibbs sitting on a bench against the wall. He motioned for Xander to join him.

"What's wrong?"

Xander wondered how much was showing on his face, and how much was Gibbs' apparently famous gut. He ran a hand through his hair.

"Nothing. Just haven't done this since... well, just after the accident, I suppose," he replied, gesturing vaguely to his eye.

Gibbs nodded. "Feeling out of practice."

"There's that." Xander watched Tony and Ziva. He knew they'd noticed him sitting next to the boss and wisely chosen to stay clear.

"Where did you learn to fight?" Gibbs was obviously trying to get him to open up, maybe to reassure him.

"No formal training," he replied.

"Alright. _How_ did you learn to fight?"

"The hard way."

"You always this forthright about your past?"

Xander laughed. "Yes." He grinned a moment longer before sobering again.

"O-kay," Gibbs said slowly. "So what's got you bothered about this? You afraid you're going to hurt DiNozzo?"

"I'm more likely to get my ass kicked."

"Just from being out of practice?"

Xander hesitated. "What's the goal of this fight?"

Gibbs seemed surprised at the new direction. "The goal? Take DiNozzo down."

"To restrain him? Incapacitate?"

"Preferably without a loss of conciousness." Gibbs frowned. "Why?"

Xander shrugged. "That's never been the goal before."

"What was the goal before?"

To kill the big bad. "To not get killed."

Gibbs studied him with a frown. "You were fighting for your life?"

Xander didn't answer directly. He decided maybe telling a half-truth would help Gibbs' opinion of him. If Gibbs drew the wrong conclusions, that wouldn't be his fault. "Have you wondered why there would be a top-secret military operation run on US soil?"

"I have," Gibbs responded grimly.

"Suffice to say, Sunnydale was not a nice town. For the sake of future generations who will never grow up there, I'm glad that it's gone."

Gibbs was quiet a moment before understanding dawned in his eyes. "Sunnydale was that town in California that collapsed into a crater a few years back."

Xander nodded in confirmation.

Gibbs sat back and took a breath. "Okay, so previously you have always fought all-out, because you had to. But your discomfort with this fight is not that you think you'll hurt someone?"

"Generally had some sort of weapon in hand. If I was taken by surprise, whatever was nearby would do."

Gibbs nodded. "But it was always hand-to-hand combat? No firearms?"

"Guns were uncommon. It was a bad town, but it was an old-fashioned bad town." Xander grinned and Gibbs rolled his eyes.

"Then come on. Let's see what you've got. You try not to pull any deadly moves, and I'll tell DiNozzo to play nice."

Xander was relieved. Gibbs could have chosen to push further ( _Have you ever killed anyone in a fight?_ God, wouldn't that be a difficult question to answer) but he hadn't.

"DiNozzo."

Tony obediently jogged over. "Boss?"

"Harris is out of practice, and he's never had any training. Start out easy."

"Sure thing Boss." He grinned at Xander as they headed for the mats.

They started with a few punches, before Tony attempted a basic tackle. Xander twisted and pulled free before kicking out and taking Tony's legs from under him. Tony went down, but was back up again in no time. They started at it again, this time Xander finding himself laid out after a few choice moves from his opponent. He quickly rolled to one side and was back on his feet. This pattern continued as Tony slowly upped the attack. Eventually though, Xander had laid him out three times in a row, and he stayed on the floor.

"I'm done, boss. Ziva can have a go if she wants," he panted.

"How you feeling, Harris?" Gibbs asked.

Xander nodded, breathing pretty heavily himself. "Not bad."

Gibbs looked over at Ziva. Who was smiling like she couldn't wait to have a turn. "He is good on the defensive, and skilled at using his opponent's strength against him. His style is that of a street fighter, not a professional, but an experienced street fighter. His offense needs work. He overcompensates for his blind side too much - I would suggest trusting yourself a little more," she said directly to Xander. "You favour the left side so much you're leaving your right open."

Xander thought she had him pinned. Obviously his offensive would be reduced by the lack of weapon in his hand. And while he had fought since losing his eye, it wasn't a regular occurance, so he'd never quite found the right balance there.

Gibbs motioned with his head. "Go on, David."

Ziva stepped forward as Tony left the mats, and picked up where her partner had left off. She was clearly the better fighter, and had Xander down twice before he got one over her. Then she grabbed him from behind, bodies tight up against each other, his arms pinned against his stomach by hers. He could feel her breath on his neck. Suddenly an old fear rose up in him. He panicked. He threw an elbow back _-hard-_ into her stomach. Her weight behind him vanished. He stepped away and spun to meet the next attack.

Which was never going to come, since Ziva was lying on the floor struggling to breathe. Gibbs was over her in an instant, calming her down, telling her to relax.

"Oh god, I'm so sorry," he panted, hovering over them anxiously.

"It's alright, she's only winded, she's fine," Gibbs said, reassuring them both. True to his word, Ziva sucked in a giant breath a moment later, and started panting heavily.

"Just breathe Ziva, don't try to talk yet," said Gibbs, a hand on her shoulder to keep her from getting up. Ziva relaxed onto the floor and Gibbs looked up at him. "Xander, sit down before you faint."

Xander sat down right there on the floor beside Ziva and Gibbs, not even noticing that Gibbs had used his nickname for the first time.

Tony appeared from somewhere. "I knew it. Two minutes in the head and you miss all the fun. So what happened? Ziva's down but it's Probie who looks like he's going to chuck?"

"Ziva's just winded. Harris got a good elbow into her stomach." Gibbs looked over at Xander again. "That hold she had you in triggered a bad memory?"

It wasn't exactly the hold that had done it so much as the feeling of her breath on the back of his neck, but it was close enough so Xander nodded.

"Thought as much. Sit tight for a few minutes, then you can go take a shower. DiNozzo, make sure he doesn't fall over in there."

Xander watched as Gibbs helped Ziva up. She'd recovered quickly once she'd started breathing again. Gibbs walked her to the door of the ladies showers but she insisted she was fine and didn't need any further help.

"How you feeling Probie?" Tony asked. "Looks like you're getting some colour back."

Xander nodded and started to get up. Tony offered him a hand and steadied him as they entered the men's showers. Xander started to strip off the loaned sweats.

"Holy crap!"

Xander turned to realise Tony was staring at him -or more specifically, the various scars crossing his otherwise lean body. A moment later Gibbs was there too, drawn by the outburst. His eyes narrowed when he saw the scars, and he gave Xander a nod.

"You weren't kidding." He turned back to Tony and slapped him lightly across the back of the head. "Stop staring and get washed up."

They both continued to clean up. Xander knew he'd have to say something to Tony. He decided on a shortened version of what he'd told Gibbs.

"Tony. The scars and fighting and stuff..." Tony looked over curiously. "I just grew up in a bad town. I fought because I had to."

"You don't have to explain, Probie. Although, by the looks of it, the fact that you're standing here is evidence that you could fight pretty good."

Or that I was always rescued in time, Xander thought.

"Do you never take that eye patch off?" Tony had noticed that Xander was still wearing it, even whilst showering.

"Not often, even at home. It's pretty gruesome under there. Even I would rather not see it."

"Can I see it? Just once?"

Xander sighed. Tony was like a whining child, and Xander was pretty sure he wouldn't give up until he got what he wanted.

"Fine, just this once. But don't say I didn't warn you."

Xander slid the elastic off from the back of his head before pulling the eye patch away. Tony's face immediately screwed up in disgust.

"Ugh, god Probie, that's horrible!"

Xander turned away and quickly replaced the eye patch, remembering all over again why he didn't show that to anyone. It wasn't good for the self-esteem when people looked at your face with that level of revulsion. He hurriedly finished getting dressed.

Tony caught up to him as he waited for the elevator back to the bullpen.

"Xander, look, I didn't mean to..."

"It's fine Tony," Xander cut him off. "Just, next time someone badgers me about wanting to see what's under there, make sure you back me up when I say no."

"Sure, of course." Tony nodded eagerly, pleased to have something good come of it.

* * *

Xander collapsed onto the sofa, another work day over. Despite not being allowed out in the field yet, Gibbs expected him to help with the office-based case work and to stay at the office as long as the rest of the team. Today he'd finally let them go around 8pm. Xander didn't really mind the hours, since he didn't have any thing to hurry home for, and focussing on a case helped take his mind off all the memories that had been stirred up since starting at NCIS. Not that he'd ever forgotten, but that being reminded of so many all at once had hurt more than he expected.

There was an odd sound at the door. Xander sat up, suddenly wary. He could hear hushed voices and a quiet metallic scraping. Someone, or technically, more than one 'someone', was trying to break in. He checked his weapons. He always carried a small dagger and a sharp 'fake pencil' - all wood, no lead. It might have been a while since he'd needed to use them, but old habits were hard to break.

He approached the door. It was clear that whoever it was, they were trying to pick the lock. There was still muffled whispering going on. He peered through the peephole, sighed and put the dagger and fake pencil away. Then yanked the door open.

Tony and McGee both straightened and McGee turned bright red. He shoved the lockpicking kit in his pocket.

"Uh, hi, um, it's not - I was... sorry." McGee gave up trying to defend their actions. Tony strode shamelessly past Xander into the room.

"So, a suite, Harris? Sounds good in theory, but this hotel? Not very upmarket. Many more out there with... well, everything this place hasn't got. You know: style, quality, pizazz! Not to mention, taste. And furniture younger than we are." He punctuated his descriptions with wild gestures as he looked around.

Xander rolled his eyes and motioned for McGee, still standing awkwardly in the doorway, to come in.

"If could afford to pay for an 'upmarket' hotel suite for several weeks while I look for an apartment, I would. But I haven't even received my first paycheck yet," Xander replied.

Tony considered this. "True. Okay. New solution. You can crash with McGee for a few weeks."

McGee's mouth dropped open. "Tony! I only have a one-bedroom and it's small enough with just me there!"

Tony shrugged and made himself comfortable on the sofa. "I'm sure you two will work it out. Now, Probies! I've gone to the effort of ordering dinner for us, so I hope you've got the money to pay for it when it arrives."

"Uh..." Xander glanced at McGee, who seemed as surprised by this bit of news as he was. "What are we having?"

"Pizza, I assume," answered McGee.

"Pepperoni, sausage and extra cheese." Tony grinned. The senior agent leaned forward to grab the remote, turned on the TV and settled in as though he'd been there a hundred times. Xander shrugged, and he and McGee made their way over to join him.

"So, not meaning to be rude or anything, but why the surprise visit?"

"You're part of the team now, Harris. Got to find out who it is I'll be trusting to have my six in the field." Tony was matter-of-fact, like it should have been obvious.

"And McGee?"

"Was dragged along as an unwilling accomplice," McGee muttered.

"Thought he should know the guy who'll be sitting at his desk for the next few months," Tony smoothly interjected.

"So this is a 'get to know the new guy' interrogation-and-hazing combo?"

Tony laughed loudly, exaggerating it a little bit. "Of course not, Probie." His face switched to deadly serious and he leaned forward. "Now tell me everything!"

Xander snorted and tried to suppress a grin at Tony's antics. "Anything in particular you want to know?" He hoped the questions would be ones he could answer honestly.

"Girlfriend?"

"Not at the moment," he answered easily.

"Does the eyepatch help you pick up girls?"

"Yes." Xander grinned. "Unless they see what's underneath."

"Why would you let them see that?" Tony asked in shock.

"I don't," Xander shook his head. "But you know what girls can be like, especially in college, at a party. They get a few drinks in them, then curiosity overcomes politeness and they reach for the eye patch without even asking."

"Ouch," said Tony sympathetically.

"Is it that bad?" asked McGee, looking between them.

"You would turn green, McQueasy," said Tony. "Wanna see?"

Xander was about to protest but McGee beat him to it.

"No, no, that's fine, really," he said quickly. "I don't need to see." Xander smiled and relaxed -Tony had clearly offered because he'd _known_ McGee would decline.

There was a knock at the door indicating the pizza had arrived. McGee and Xander managed to work out the money between them, causing Tony to repeat his suggestion that they become flatmates. For his part, Tony pulled a six pack of beer from his backpack and handed one to each of them. He found a baseball game on TV and they settled down to eat.

"So, back to the important stuff," Tony said, mouth still full. "What do you drive?"

"A 2001 Honda Accord. Old but reliable. College mate sold it to me," Xander replied.

"Okay, dream car then?" Tony amended the question. Xander thought about it.

"Always been partial to Corvettes."

"Nice choice. I used to own a Corvette," said Tony, sounding wistful. "Coupe or convertible?"

"Convertible. What happened to yours?" Xander asked.

Tony affected a long suffering sigh. "It was stolen and destroyed in a high-speed police chase."

McGee grinned. "And then there was the Mustang."

"Oh?" Xander sensed a story.

"It got blown up, by the CIA," Tony admitted. "Did you know car insurance doesn't cover 'bombs planted by rogue federal agents'? They refused to pay it out."

"The CIA blew up your car?" Xander exclaimed.

"I don't think that was ever proven, Tony," commented McGee.

"Didn't need to be. I know Kort did it. Next topic!" Tony steered the conversation away. "Movies."

"Um.. yes?" answered Xander. "I watch them. I like them."

"What kind?"

"Comedy, action, sci-fi, documentaries. Whatever's on, really."

"You seen The Fugitive?"

"Tommy Lee Jones and Harrison Ford? Great movie."

"Bond?"

"Hasn't everyone seen the Bond movies?"

"The Godfather trilogy?"

" _Bonasera_ ," Xander intoned in a slightly husky voice. " _What have I ever done to make you treat me so disrespectfully?_ "

Tony nodded in approval. "Good man." He settled back, his main lines of questioning apparently satisfied.

"So, uh, what other jobs have you had, Xander?" asked McGee.

Xander finished his last piece of pizza and picked up his beer. "I worked in a bar during college. Did construction for a while before that. Carpentry, mostly, and that was pretty good. Various crappy jobs before that."

"Carpentry?" asked McGee. "Gibbs will like you better when he hears that."

"Really? Why?" Xander couldn't see any obvious reason.

"The boss is always building things in his basement," Tony explained. "Used to always be boats, but he's built some other stuff too, I think. And he does it all by hand, no power tools."

Xander chuckled. He could imagine it. He stood up and collected the pizza boxes, and McGee gave him a hand with the empty beer bottles. They moved into the kitchenette area, discussing their worst jobs -McGee cringed at Xander's 'phone sex operator' but Xander thought McGee's 'porta-potty cleaner' was the winner by a long shot. They were interrupted by an exclamation.

"Harris! Tell me you never take these out in public?"

Oh crap. Tony had wandered into the bedroom. What had he found? Xander had a reasonable collection of weapons in there - a battle axe, a proper sword and a crossbow -which he had obtained whilst travelling with the Scoobies in Europe. Along with a few 'standard' items like a couple of spare stakes and a few bottles of holy water. Old habits, etc. He planned to hang the bigger weapons as 'decorative pieces' when he found a flat. But he was pretty sure he had left them safely stored away in a closed suitcase. Just how nosy was DiNozzo?

Xander and McGee quickly crossed to the bedroom. They found Tony standing over a suitcase he'd put on the bed and opened. It was a suitcase full of... clothes. In particular, there were several horribly bad Hawaiian shirts. Xander burst out laughing in relief.

Tony pulled out an old - but still lurid - multicoloured shirt, and waved it around. "Seriously! There are Hawaiian shirts, and then there are these. These should never see the light of day! It's a crime, and one I could not idly stand by and watch you commit!"

"I won't wear them to work, Tony," Xander replied, still chuckling. Tony threw the shirt back on top of the pile.

"Shouldn't wear them at all," he replied. "Even McGeek has better taste. Tell you what, when you get that first paycheck you let me know, and I'll give you a list of decent stores to shop at."

"Uh, I think my first paycheck will be going towards a permanent place to live," Xander replied.

"Priorities, Harris." He shook his head as though Xander's taste in clothes was a lost cause. "Come on, McGee, time for us to be off. Another fun-filled day at the office awaits us tomorrow."

Xander followed them to the door of the suite. McGee paused in the doorway.

"By the way, Abby and Ziva will probably demand you go out for drinks with us on Friday night. If they, you know, hear about this, tonight." McGee gestured vaguely at Xander's suite. "They'll probably be annoyed they weren't invited."

"Should I be worried?" Xander asked.

McGee inclined his head. "You may face the same 'twenty questions' again, especially from Abby. But if you willingly submit yourself to their interrogation, you should be fine."

Xander chuckled. "I think I'll cope. Thanks for the heads up."

McGee flashed him a grin and headed down the hall after Tony. Xander closed the door with a relieved sigh, and called it a night.


	4. Chapter 4

McGee had been correct about the girls' reaction.

The case the team were working had been solved by mid-morning, and Tony had decided to 'help' Xander learn his new job by having him do all of his post-case paperwork. Tony had then proceeded to loiter around Xander's desk all afternoon, distracting and annoying him as much as possible, before pointing out mistakes in the paperwork and making Xander redo it all. Xander had tried to take the harassment with good humour, but eventually his patience was wearing thin. He was frustrated and could feel a headache coming on. When one of the tic-tacs Tony was throwing landed in his ear, Xander snapped.

"DiNozzo, quit it!"

Tony grinned innocently.

"Is there a problem, Harris?" asked Gibbs mildly. He'd been sitting at his desk on and off through the afternoon, and Xander had no doubt he knew what was going on. And if Tony was messing with him so blatantly in front of the boss, then Gibbs wasn't going to stop it. So complaining wouldn't get Xander anywhere.

"No, no problem. Just some difficulty concentrating," Xander muttered, still glaring at Tony.

"Good," said Gibbs. "Because if you need more practice, you could always finish Agent David's paperwork too."

Xander stifled a groan. Gibbs wasn't just letting Tony get away with the hazing, he was adding to it!

"Actually, I have already completed mine," said Ziva. She got up to lean against the front of her desk. "I do hope you'll finish Tony's work soon though. I don't want to be kept waiting too long."

"Waiting?" Xander asked.

They heard the elevator ding and Abby bounded into the bullpen.

"Xander! You're coming out for drinks tonight! No arguments," she announced.

Xander groaned. "Abby, I'm not really up for it tonight. Rain check?"

"No way mister. Especially since you didn't invite Ziva or me last night."

_"Invite?"_

"Right, and it was totally not fair that you and Tony and McGee got to do your 'male bonding thing' without Ziva and I. So you are coming tonight, and I don't care if you've already told them everything about yourself, you'll just have to tell it all again." Abby emphasised her point by crossing her arms and glaring at Xander, daring him to turn her down. He suddenly lost the energy to point out that it wouldn't have been a 'male bonding thing' if the two women had turned up as well.

"Fine," he conceded. "I'll come."

"Good!" Abby gave him a grin to rival one of Tony's.

"He won't be going anywhere until that paperwork is done," Gibbs interrupted.

"Aww, Gibbs!" Abby turned to the older man. "Please can he finish it on Monday? Just this once?"

"Nope, reports have gotta be done, Abbs, you know that. However..." Gibbs leaned back in his chair and looked over at Xander and Tony. "I suspect it would go a lot quicker if DiNozzo actually helped complete his own paperwork."

Abby's mouth dropped open. "Tony! You're making Xander do your work?"

"It's a Probie's job, Abby," Tony replied, not even slightly apologetic.

"Abby. Palmer and McGee will be waiting for us," said Ziva. "Why don't we go on ahead and let these two finish up?"

"Good plan, Ziva!" Abby declared. She wagged a warning finger at Tony. "If you two take ages to finish up here, I'm blaming you!" They headed out.

Now that Tony had been motivated to get the reports finished, he managed to work quite well _with_ Xander, and a mere twenty minutes later they were done. Tony grabbed the pages from the printer and dropped them on Gibbs' desk.

"That's everything Boss, so I'll just take Probie Number Three here and we'll be off... have a good weekend!" Tony motioned for Xander to hurry up and they headed for the elevator.

"DiNozzo," Gibbs barked. Tony paused.

"Boss?"

"Next time I see you throwing food or candy of any sort, I _will_ keep the promise I made last time."

Tony frowned in confusion. "Last time?"

"You and Kate had a food fight."

"Kate, wow." Tony appeared to think, then realise. "Oh! Peas?"

"Peas, DiNozzo."

"Got it, Boss!"

Xander followed Tony into the elevator, surprised to glance back and see that Gibbs was grinning. He turned to Tony as the doors shut.

"Uh... dare I ask?"

Tony chuckled. "Kate was my partner from some years ago; we got into a food fight across the bullpen. Gibbs said if we ever did it again he would join in."

"With peas?" That didn't sound so bad.

" _Canned_ peas, Probie. Still in the can."

Xander laughed. Gibbs had a decent sense of humour under that grumpy facade.

"So Kate's on another team now?"

Xander had thought it an innocent question, but Tony stiffened and there was a brief flash of grief across his face. He didn't answer until the elevator doors had released them into the open space of the carpark.

"Kate was shot by a terrorist." Tony's voice was steady but subdued.

"I'm sorry," Xander offered, painfully aware of how much he hated that phrase when offered to him.

"Don't be, it was a long time ago now. Word of warning though: don't bring her name up with the others, and especially not with Ziva. That's a sure way to ruin a good night with bad memories."

"Were she and Ziva close?" Xander asked.

Tony snorted. "No. They never met. But the bastard that shot Kate was Ziva's brother."

Xander was surprised, and Tony caught the look. He chuckled, shaking off the serious thoughts.

"That's a long story Probie, and not one for tonight. Come on, better get moving before Abby decides to murder me in some untraceable way." He grinned.

Tony gave Xander a lift to the pub where the others awaited them. Xander stared out the window at the dark streets with interest, trying to see if there were any unusual shadows lurking about. Baltimore had it's share of demons, and he supposed there would be some here too. Nothing like Sunnydale's population of course, and not even anything like what Los Angeles or Cleveland had, but there would no doubt be some.

He had actually encountered the local vampire population in Baltimore on a number of occasions -only once or twice a year, but enough to remind himself why he carried a sharp stick and a dagger. On most of those occasions he'd stumbled across a hot young vamp, seducing it's meal in the alley behind a nightclub. Most had been fledglings, newly turned and consumed by their bloodlust, and therefore so preoccupied with their victim that they didn't pay Xander any attention until it was too late. He didn't plan to become any sort of demon hunter or vigilante, especially with only one eye and no backup, but when presented with such easy pickings he had to act. He would never willingly leave a victim when there was a chance to save them.

So the lead-less pencil he carried around had actually served it's purpose a few times. Not many, really: he didn't need all his fingers to count them, but still.

When Tony parked outside the pub, Xander still hadn't seen anything to indicate demon activity. He wasn't terribly surprised. Likely, the population here was subtle, or maybe they were an 'early morning' rather than a 'late night' crowd. He'd mention it next time he emailed Giles, see if they had any information on the area.

"This is our usual haunt, Harris," Tony announced, grabbing Xander's attention. "Quick enough to get to after work, but far enough from the Navy Yard to avoid a bar full of people we recognise."

The pub was nice enough, probably renovated a handful of years ago, unlike the older bar Xander had worked at in Baltimore. Tony led him straight towards the back, and Abby squealed in delight when she saw them, dragging Xander to a seat beside her. Tony went to fetch them each a beer while Xander patiently submitted to Abby's interrogation on his love life, favourite movies, childhood aspirations and music tastes, with other light-hearted questions and comments thrown in from the rest of the team. Much laughter and several beers later, he threw back a question about Abby's gothic style that he'd been dying to ask, and was relieved to find she didn't worship vampires, nor did she want to be one. This turned the conversation to the supernatural - without any further prompting from Xander - and sparked what was apparently an ongoing debate between Abby and McGee.

"I still don't understand how you can believe in aliens and magic and superstitions Abby! You're a scientist!"

"I don't understand how can you deny it outright Timmy! With jobs like ours, you should have learned to keep an open mind." Abby's argument sounded sensible enough but her grin suggested that deep down, she really hoped it was all real. Tim snorted as everyone else watched them in amusement. "New discoveries are being made all the time! There's lots out there we don't know about yet."

Tony interrupted. "Ziva believes in the supernatural, don't you, Ziva?"

"I do not believe or disbelieve, Tony. I was simply taught not to dismiss anything without proof," she replied evenly.

"How do you prove that something that is apparently beyond nature _doesn't_ exist?" asked Tim in exasperation.

"Palmer!" Abby turned to the assistant medical examiner. "You'll agree with me. I'm sure you've seen things come through autopsy that you can't explain."

"Uh, well yes, all the time..." Jimmy stammered.

Abby cheered. "See? I knew it!"

"But I generally put that down to my own inexperience, and then Dr Mallard usually explains them to me," Jimmy finished.

Abby was undeterred. "Usually, but not _always_. Which is exactly my point."

Tim shook his head. "Abby, just because there might be something we can't explain, doesn't mean there isn't a perfectly mundane explanation. It just means we didn't find it."

"What about you, Agent Harris?" asked Jimmy.

"I only believe in things I've seen with my own eye," Xander replied with a grin.

* * *

"Gear up! We've got a dead dependant. DiNozzo-"

"Gas the truck, on it Boss."

"Harris, you part of this team?" Gibbs threw back as he walked out of the bullpen, Tony and Ziva right on his heels. Xander hurried to grab his newly-issued weapon and holster, and his backpack, and jog after his teammates. How the hell did they move so fast?

The deceased was the teenage daughter of a Navy Captain. She was found in the laundry room, on the basement level of the hotel they were staying in. At the scene, DiNozzo sketched, Ziva looked for evidence to bag and tag, and Xander was handed the camera and told to photograph _everything_. Preferring to take too many photos than risk missing something, he took the order literally. Several hours later, they were back in the bullpen. Gibbs walked in with a fresh coffee.

"What've we got?"

Tony jumped in first as they gathered around the plasma. "Emily Gray, 15, daughter of Navy Captain Joseph Gray and his wife Carol. The Grays have been staying at the Crowne Plaza for two months while Captain Gray is assigned to a three-month temporary position at the Pentagon. Mrs Gray is currently in Massachusetts visiting friends. She's on her way back now."

Ziva took over. "There was blood on the corner of a table in the laundry room, the swab I took is with Abby. I didn't find any other potential murder weapons. There are no security cameras in the laundry but the hotel gave us the tapes from the elevators. There is footage showing Emily travelling down to the basement, going back up, and then travelling down again an hour later."

"Probably to move the load from the washer to the dryer," added Tony.

"The Captain also mentioned his daughter had a boyfriend named Greg but they'd broken up a few weeks ago," finished Ziva.

"Does Greg have a last name?" Gibbs asked.

"The Captain didn't know it."

"She owned a cell phone, according to her father. We could probably find Greg's number in it," Xander suggested.

"But we didn't find the cell," replied Ziva. "I went through everything in the laundry and their suite. I even tried calling it."

"DiNozzo, contact Emily's school, see if they can tell us who she spent time with. If the school doesn't know this 'Greg', maybe her friends do. Ziva, find out who else may have been in or near the laundry around that time. Harris, find that cell phone." He walked off to visit Ducky and Abby.

Xander looked at his teammates helplessly.

"How exactly am I supposed to find her cell?" he asked.

DiNozzo grinned. "By going to the basement, of course."

"The basement?"

"Go sit in the peaceful silence of the basement, meditate upon the problem, and wait for the answer to come to you," Tony intoned.

Xander raised an eyebrow in disbelief but both Ziva and Tony had completely straight faces, and turned back to their own desks. He stared at them a moment longer.

"I wouldn't let Gibbs come back and see you still standing there," Ziva advised after a minute. Xander shook his head, hesitated once more and then headed for the elevator.

The doors opened into the basement level and Xander groaned in relief. Of course. The basement. Where McGee and the cyber crime unit were housed. DiNozzo had only been half pulling his leg.

McGee was typing busily with headphones on and jumped when Xander touched his arm to get his attention. He pulled the headphones off.

"Sorry," Xander apologised.

"It's fine." McGee hurried to reassure him. "What brings you down here?"

"Gibbs has ordered me to locate the cell phone belonging to a girl that was murdered this afternoon. Tony suggested I ask you for help."

"Well, it only works if the phone is still on..."

"It is," Xander replied. "Ziva called it several times; it would ring for a while before going to voicemail."

"Then sure, hang on." McGee tapped at his keyboard for a moment. "Okay, what's the number?"

Xander read it out. McGee tapped away again.

"Okay, just about have it... it is... at the corner of Headland St and Archer Rd. The Crowne Plaza Hotel, or very close to it."

Xander groaned. Would he have to search the entire hotel? McGee picked up on the reason for his disappointment and chuckled, wishing him luck. Xander trudged back up to the elevator.

* * *

An hour later, he was riding the elevator from the lobby to the bullpen for the third time in a row. This time the doors opened to reveal an unamused Gibbs waiting.

"You'd better not be wasting time playing with the elevator, Harris," he growled. Xander just smiled.

"No boss, I was just timing how long it took for the lift to get here." He held up his watch.

"And?"

"Sixteen seconds, every time."

"And you're going to explain how this is helping you find that cell phone?"

"Well, yeah." Xander hurried past Gibbs to the bullpen and brought up the hotel's security footage on the plasma. "I was checking the elevator footage to see if Emily had her cell with her when she went to the laundry. It's in her hand the first time, but not the second. But while I was comparing them, I noticed that the second trip took longer. The first time she only took 17 seconds, but the second trip was 23 seconds long."

"So?"

"So, you might allow for a difference of a second maybe, but six seconds? That's several floors."

Gibbs got it. "She wasn't coming from her own apartment." He strode out of the bullpen again. "Ziva, with me. And Harris?" he called back. "Good work."

Tony looked at Xander in awe.

"What?" he asked, not understanding.

"Gibbs complimented your work," Tony replied in an impressed voice. "And it's only your second week."

Xander shrugged, still not really understanding what that meant, but pleased nonetheless.

After that the case had moved quickly. It turned out that Emily had been sleeping with a married man she'd met in the hotel lobby, whose room was several floors above hers -they'd found her cellphone under his bed. When his wife had figured out what was happening, she'd followed Emily to the laundry room to confront her. The woman had confessed after being presented with the facts in interrogation. She hadn't meant to kill the girl, but when she'd shoved her angrily, Emily had fallen and hit her head on the table. The wife had panicked and left without checking if Emily was still alive.

Xander had done his share of the work in closing the case, and Gibbs had accepted his report at the end with a vague grunt. The boss hadn't said anything else to Xander about his performance on his first case, but Xander got the feeling that Gibbs was satisfied and possibly even happy with his efforts. And for the first time, Xander started to feel like he really could make a difference here. Not in the sentimental directly-change-someone's-life-forever way perhaps, but definitely in the having-something-to-contribute-way. Which was exactly what he'd been looking for.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yeah, ok, I borrowed some of the details of the case from another show I love. Call it a homage.


	5. Chapter 5

Heading home from the pub a few nights later, Xander had his first introduction to the hidden side of Washington D.C.

He was walking along the street with a casual air, keeping a wary watch on his surroundings as had long ago become habit. He glanced down every alley he passed, even - or especially - the unlit ones, where it was hard to make out anything. As he passed one of them, he saw a familiar figure standing outside a door, smoking. Xander stopped in surprise. There was a single light above the door, shrouding the face in shadows, especially since he was wearing a hat, but he could still make out the paleness of the skin and the lines in which it hung from his face.

"It's rude to stare at people you know, even if they do have a skin condition," the figure said, offended.

"Clem?" Xander asked.

But he'd taken a step forward and could see better now, and no, it wasn't Clem after all. He looked very similar, but he was just another of... well, whatever kind of demon Clem was.

"Sorry, I thought you were someone else," Xander said, turning away.

"Wait, you know Clem?" the demon asked, taking a step towards Xander.

"Knew. A few years ago," Xander replied cautiously. "You?"

"He's my cousin." The demon held out his hand. "I'm Frak."

Xander relaxed and took the offered hand. "Xander."

"Xander? _The_ Xander, from Sunnydale? Oh wow, it's really great to meet you, Clem told me all about you guys! What about the others, uh, Spike, and Buffy, and Willow? Are they here too?" Frak was suddenly grinning and shaking Xander's hand enthusiastically. Xander politely took it back.

"I believe Spike is in L.A.; Buffy and Willow are living in England," he replied. "Clem really told you all about us?"

"Oh yeah, we write every week or so, ever since he and his Mom moved away when we were little. Our clan's originally from Paris, you know."

"France?"

"Kansas. Clem's back home there, you know, now Sunnydale's gone and all."

Xander nodded. Buffy had seen Clem leaving town along with all the sensible humans.

"So what are you doing in D.C.? Just a holiday? Or are you sticking around? You know, either way, I could show you 'round the city, be your own personal tour guide. And, you know, this place," he jerked a thumb at the door behind him, "is one of the better bars in the city for, you know, my kind. Want to get a drink?"

Xander tried to get his head around all the questions and 'you know's.

"I've just moved to D.C., I don't really need a tour, thank you, and I've already had a few drinks tonight," he replied. That covered everything, right?

Frak's face drooped in disappointment. Well, drooped more than usual.

"Look, um..." Xander thought quickly. "How about another night? You can fill me in on what Clem's been up to since Sunnydale."

Frak's face lit up again. He fumbled in his pocket.

"Sure, look, here's my card. Give me a call."

Xander looked at the card. "Sorry, it's Frank, is it? I thought you said 'Frak' before."

"Oh I did, my name _is_ Frak, but Frank, you know, is easier when dealing with humans. Not that I do that too much - I work as a cleaner, so, you know, mostly after hours and stuff."

Xander handed over his own card. Frak whistled in admiration.

" _Special Agent_ , hey? Oh, brilliant! I could be a source, you know?" The demon was practically bouncing with excitement.

"A source?" Xander was getting weary. It'd been a long day, and he needed some decent sleep before another day at work tomorrow. And all the 'you know's were starting to grate on his nerves.

Frak was oblivious.

"Yeah, you know, if you're investigating something that has connections to demon activity, I could get you the inside scoop! Although, there's not actually much crime amongst our kind here, you know?" Frak's enthusiasm waned a little as he thought about it. "It's a political town for humans and demons alike. Everyone tries to blend in and keep, you know, a low profile."

Which was pretty much what Giles had said in his email just the other day. Washington D.C. had it's fair share of demons, primarily those kinds which could easily pass themselves off as human. They were in all levels of politics and government, sometimes as senators or officials, but more often as the people behind the faces. Secretaries, personal assistants, lawyers, consultants. These were demons who wanted to avoid apocalypses, because they enjoyed playing in the world too much to want it destroyed.

"Well, if anything ever comes up, you'll be the first I call, okay?"

Frak seemed satisfied with that, and Xander finally made his escape. He'd call the demon next week, have a couple of drinks, probably hear all about what Clem's doing back home in Kansas. And hopefully leave again without murdering the guy for saying 'you know' one too many times.

* * *

After Xander's useful contribution on his first case, he started to get what Tony called the 'full Probie treatment': all the undesirable and thankless tasks on a case. If it was dirty, mouldy, decomposing, or otherwise distasteful, bagging it was Xander's job. If there was 200 hours of boring security footage to watch, it was Xander's job. If there was a smelly, dirty homeless man with really bad breath to get a statement from, it was Xander's job.

Xander moaned and complained to Tony when the senior field agent pulled rank on him, but he only winked at Ziva and never once complained to Gibbs. Really, he didn't mind it. Someone had to do these jobs, and he understood that one day there would be somebody newer than him, and then it would be that person's problem. Besides, it made him part of the team. He had worked in a tight-knit team before, and he missed that. The major difference between this kind of team and the old Scooby Gang was that he was reasonably assured of moving up the ranks one day. With the Scoobies, he would always have been the not-as-strong, not-as-smart, not-as-powerful one.

After several weeks, Xander felt he was starting to get the hang of things. Gibbs didn't hate him and he was starting to learn some of the Rules. He had developed good friendships with Ziva and Abby, and he and Tony could talk movies and trade jokes with ease. He wasn't quite at the point of finishing Gibbs' sentences yet, like his teammates could, but when he'd had lunch with Abby and McGee one day, McGee had reassured him that would take some time.

Then they caught a major case -the kidnapping of a Navy Commander's young daughter, Tara. Gibbs was in a foul mood from the beginning. Tony managed to whisper when they had a moment without Gibbs around, that cases involving children always brought out the worst mood in their boss. Vance was also breathing down their necks to get the case solved - happily - as quickly as they could. The team threw everything they had into finding out who had taken the girl and why.

It took 13 hours and several coffee deliveries, but they figured it out. A low-ranking officer, Seaman Daniel Porter, had served under the Commander in one of his previous roles as Skipper of the _USS Mason_. Due to late changes to the destroyer's schedule, it arrived back at Norfolk five days late - two days after Porter's six year old daughter had died of leukaemia. Porter had promised to be at her bedside, and he blamed the Commander for costing him their last moments together. His grief had been channelled into anger and a slow-burning hatred, and he had planned his revenge by taking the Commander's now five-year-old daughter away.

Between them, Tony and Xander discovered that Porter had inherited a house in the suburbs eighteen months earlier - and more importantly, that he'd kept that information from his wife. A nonchalant drive past the address confirmed Porter's car was there. The team geared up. When they arrived, the house was dark. Gibbs ordered Tony and Ziva to the back; he and Xander took the front door. Gibbs quietly picked the lock and whispered into the microphone hidden in his sleeve.

"DiNozzo."

"In position, boss," came the quiet response in their earpieces.

Gibbs looked at Xander, who nodded.

"Quietly, on my count. Three, two, one."

Gibbs nudged the door open and they silently entered. There was a lounge room to their left: empty. Gibbs nodded down the hall. There was a dim light and a low male voice coming from the first bedroom. Gibbs and Xander moved quietly towards the door. On Gibbs' signal, they swung into the room, guns held ready.

"NCIS! Drop your weapon!"

"Stay back! Don't come any closer!" Porter jumped up, holding his own gun out.

Tara, sitting on the bed, immediately burst into tears.

"Put your weapon down!" yelled Gibbs again. Xander stood steadfast beside him. Both their guns were pointed at Porter's head. Porter looked around desperately.

"There's nowhere to go, Porter," Gibbs assured him. "Just put the gun down, don't make this any worse for yourself than it already is."

Porter hesitated, then nodded and pointed his gun at the ceiling to show he was complying. He slowly bent down to place it on the floor. As he began to straighten, his right hand went to his ankle and Xander saw a flash of silver.

The next few moments seemed to happen in slow motion. Xander saw the knife. Porter pulled it out and turned towards Tara in one movement. Xander threw himself at the girl, somehow managing to get between her and her attacker. He landed heavily over Tara just as the knife came down and he felt it drive into his right arm. Then Gibbs was pulling Porter off, and Ziva and Tony were there, and time had gone back to normal.

He moved back so he wasn't crushing the crying little girl.

"I'm, I'm sorry," she bawled.

Xander sat beside her and rubbed a comforting hand up and down her back. "Shh, it's okay, you have nothing to be sorry for. You're okay now." He was vaguely aware of the noise behind him as Porter was cuffed and led away, still yelling that he should have been allowed to settle the score. Xander's focus remained on the little girl.

"Daddy says I shouldn't cry, he, he says, brave girls don't cry," Tara sobbed.

Xander frowned. "When did your Daddy say that?"

"When - when I was at the doctors, for, for the needles." Her tears were easing off, and her gulping breaths had turned into hiccups.

Xander smiled at the explanation. "I don't think this is the same thing, kid. You know, I used to know another brave girl called Tara."

"Really? Was _-hic!_ she scared of things?"

"Things like this? She would have been very scared. But that doesn't mean she wasn't brave. It's okay to be afraid, just so long as you keep going anyway."

Xander looked up when Gibbs approached and crouched in front of Tara with a glass of water.

"Have a drink to get rid of those hiccups, and then we'll take you back to our office. Your Mom and Dad are waiting for you," the boss said gently. Tara's eyes lit up and Gibbs smiled at her.

"Come on then," said Xander, as the three of them stood up. Gibbs put a hand on Xander's chest.

"Not you."

Xander frowned in confusion until Gibbs pointed at his arm. Oh yeah. He'd been stabbed. Someone had tied a tourniquet around the wound. When did that happen?

"There's an ambulance on it's way. DiNozzo will go with you."

Xander nodded and walked out, feeling a bit light-headed now that he was on his feet. Tony met him at the door and steadied him as they met the ambulance. The trip to Bethesda was short and Xander was taken aside to be checked over. Tony went to get a coffee.

Xander's wound wasn't urgent and other cases in the Emergency Room were considered higher priority, so it was several hours before he was seen to. The doctor gave him some tablets and stitched it up, advised him to keep his arm immobilised for 48 hours to make sure he didn't pull it open again, and to move his arm on a regular basis for at least two weeks after that, to ensure no permanent muscle damage occurred. Xander nodded absently. The painkilling tablets had been strong and he was still a bit light-headed. But he'd had slashes and knife wounds before, nothing he couldn't handle.

Xander wandered into the hall and almost immediately ran into a very angry Special Agent Gibbs.

"Harris! What the hell did you think you were doing!"

Xander was taken aback. What had he done now? He noticed a frazzled looking Tony sitting a few metres away. Xander was going to ask what was wrong, but a nurse appeared to scold Gibbs for raising his voice in the hospital, and threatened to call security.

Gibbs shook his head and checked that Xander was allowed to go before assuring the nurse it wouldn't be necessary. He appeared to have calmed considerably as he guided his two agents out to the carpark.

"DiNozzo. I had McGee and Ziva tag-team to bring your car over." He chuckled at Tony's panicked look. "Don't worry, I didn't let Ziva drive your car." He handed over the keys and said something quietly to his senior agent, who nodded and headed to his own car. Gibbs turned back to Xander and they went to Gibbs' car.

It took a few minutes for Xander to realise they weren't heading back to the Navy Yard. He sat up properly.

"Boss? Where are we going?"

"My place." Gibbs said it with a tone that brooked no argument. They pulled into the drive and Gibbs showed Xander in, indicating he should take a seat on the couch.

"They give you painkillers at the hospital?"

"Yeah."

"Want a soda?" Gibbs disappeared, presumably to the kitchen.

"Sure," Xander called after him, still mystified by whatever was going on. Gibbs returned with a beer and glass of coke. He saw Xander's look.

"None for you until the painkillers wear off."

Xander sighed and picked up the coke. Gibbs sat down in the single lounge chair.

"Right. Care to explain yourself, Harris?"

Xander thought he might have preferred Yelling Gibbs to this way-too-calm version. "Uh, explain what, exactly?"

Gibbs leaned forward, eyeing the younger man. "Two things. First, you jumped in front of the man with a knife, instead of using the pistol you already had pointed at him."

Oh.

"At the time, I guess I didn't think. It seemed like the best option. I guess, jumping in like that is how I used to do things. Although in retrospect, if I'd fired, it still might not have stopped him from slashing that little girl."

Gibbs nodded. "I know that. It's the first part that bothers me. Your first instinct is to get into a fight physically instead using your firearm. Next time, that might get you killed. Hell, if _I'd_ fired at Porter I might have hit you."

Xander took a deep breath. Gibbs was right. This time it had worked, but if the situation had been different... he'd have to try and keep it in mind. His primary weapon was a gun now; he needed to learn to use it ahead of other options.

"The second explanation, Harris. There are no next-of-kin details and no medical proxy listed in your file."

Xander grimaced. "Don't have anyone to put there."

He knew any of the Scoobies would argue that point, but they were so far away, and pretty much always dealing with their own major events. They were busy trying to run an international agency made up primarily of teenage girls - an impossible notion by itself - and dealing with matters of international importance. He couldn't expect them to come running every time he got in a scrape at work.

"Your parents are still alive," Gibbs commented. Ah, now that was a subject Xander could be certain about.

"I moved out of home as soon as I could and barely had any contact with my parents after that. And there hasn't been any contact at all since Sunnydale collapsed," he admitted.

"Do you realise how dangerous it is to have no details there?" Xander looked up in surprise at the quiet anger in Gibbs' voice. "What if that knife had gone into your chest tonight? What if you get shot tomorrow? There's no one to approve your surgery. No one to let the hospital know of any allergies or other conditions you might have. You could die because you didn't fill a name and a number out on a form!"

Xander gulped. He hadn't thought of it that way. But it didn't change anything. "I don't have anyone to put there," he repeated quietly.

Gibbs visibly stilled and collected himself.

"Yes, you do," he said gruffly. "When we get in to work tomorrow, first thing you do is put down my details as your proxy. Understood?"

Xander was floored. He managed a nod.

"Good."

They heard the front door open and Tony walked in, looking refreshed and sporting his trademark grin.

"Anyone hungry?"

He deposited three pizzas on the coffee table and slung a backpack down beside Gibbs' chair. Xander suddenly discovered he was starving. He eagerly reached forward for the pizza boxes, unintentionally moaning when he pulled on the stitches.

Gibbs chuckled. "Forget already?" He motioned Tony towards the kitchen. "Beer's in the fridge."

"Thanks Boss." Tony headed down the hall to help himself. Xander reached again with only his left arm this time, and discovered a meat lovers, a pepperoni, and a supreme. He grabbed a slice, as did Gibbs and Tony, before Tony settled beside him on the lounge, beer in hand.

Gibbs put the TV on and they caught most of a game, which had Tony yelling at the screen every few minutes.

"Not into sports, Harris?"

"They're fine to watch. I was never a jock though," he answered.

"Really? You never played anything in high school?" Tony was shocked.

"I joined the swim team once. Lasted less than a week." Xander grinned at the horrified look on Tony's face. "You were a jock." It wasn't a question.

"And a Phys Ed major," Tony confirmed.

Xander rolled his eyes. Of course. A jock's jock.

When they were finished, Gibbs cleared the boxes and took everything to the kitchen.

Tony turned to Xander. "You had him worried, you know."

"I did?"

"Yeah. Jumping in there like that. And then realising there was nobody listed on your file." Tony shifted to face Xander properly on the couch. "You ever been part of a family where none of the members were related by blood?"

Xander nodded. Yeah, he'd had one of those. Still sort of had it, but it wasn't the same anymore. He missed them.

"Gibbs' team is his family," Tony went on. "That includes you now. We are family, and we look out for each other, got it?"

Xander nodded again. He was surprised to find himself feeling so moved by the declaration.

"And another thing," Gibbs said. Xander looked up, to find the older man leaning against the doorway. "My door is always unlocked. Any time you need help, or just a friend, you let yourself in."

Xander nodded again, not trusting his voice. Gibbs turned back to the kitchen, but could clearly be heard muttering "Hell, DiNozzo does it all the time."

Tony grinned. "I'll replace those beers, Boss!"

Xander yawned as Gibbs came back out. "Time to go, DiNozzo."

"Sure is, Boss. See you tomorrow, Harris." Tony headed out the door. Xander stood up.

"Uh, so you'll be giving me a lift home, Boss?"

"You're staying here, Harris. DiNozzo dropped off your 'go' bag." He picked up the backpack Tony had brought in earlier, and Xander realised it was indeed his. "Come on, the spare room has your name on it."


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: this chapter is case-heavy. For those unsure, 'UA' stands for Unauthorized Absence.

Xander woke at 4am. It took him a moment to realise where he was, and why he had woken. His right arm throbbed, and he sighed. He had painkillers in his bag, but if he got up he probably wouldn't sleep again. If he stayed in bed, the pain would keep him awake.

He rolled out of bed and slowly dressed. Normally he would head out for a run before work, but that wasn't going to happen today. Last night Gibbs had helped him get his shirt off without moving his injured arm too much, before leaving him to finish changing himself. He figured he could do it all himself if he took it slow. It was difficult but he managed to get dressed.

Grabbing the painkillers from his bag he padded downstairs and filled a glass with tap water to take them. He spotted the coffee machine and put it on, then wandered around. Gibbs' house was sparsely furnished and the furniture was all quite old, though still serviceable. An appropriate reflection of their boss.

He found the door to the basement and remembered his teammates mentioning something about Gibbs doing woodwork down there. Curious, he made his way down the stairs. There was a half-built boat taking up most of the space. Xander looked it over, then found the plans on the workbench and compared them. Gibbs' work was exactly according to the plan.

When Gibbs came down an hour later, with two freshly poured mugs of coffee, Xander was working one-handed on one of the beams. He stopped when he saw Gibbs.

"Sorry, hope you don't mind."

Gibbs passed him one of the coffees, shaking his head with a slight smile. "Not at all. Woodwork is good for the sanity." Xander put the mug down and continued working. Gibbs watched him for a moment.

"You know what you're doing."

"I worked in construction for about 18 months before Sunnydale fell. Mostly carpentry. I liked it."

"You didn't go back to it?"

Xander shook his head. "My father worked in construction. When he worked, anyway. I didn't want to follow in his footsteps."

Gibbs picked up another sander and they worked silently for a few minutes.

"Who's Tara?" Gibbs asked.

"Huh?"

"Last night, you told the Commander's little girl you knew another Tara."

"Oh." Xander paused in his work. "Tara was my best friend's girlfriend. She died, about a year before the town became a crater. GSW."

Gibbs stopped sanding. "I thought you told me guns were uncommon."

"Yeah, but not completely absent. Actually, it wasn't even meant for her. Guy was shooting at someone else outside. Stray bullet went through the second story window. Wrong place, wrong time."

Gibbs was watching him closely. "You were there."

"I was outside, with the friend the shooter _was_ aiming for. I saw him coming, and I froze." He shook his head, angry with himself. "I saw the gun, and I froze! I should have stopped him before he even raised it!"

Gibbs gave Xander a moment of breathing space. Xander was surprised how much guilt he'd held onto about that.

"Your other friend survive?"

"Yeah. Was close, but she's fine now."

"They catch the guy?"

He snorted. "Yeah. They caught him." Xander didn't feel the need to add _but he's dead now too_. Times like this, his whole life seemed be one dead friend or acquaintance after another.

Gibbs was silent after that, and Xander wondered what he was thinking. Probably that if Sunnydale still existed, he'd have been storming in there to take care of it's problems once and for all. Xander laughed bitterly in his head. If only Gibbs had been around back then. He probably _would_ have walked in and set the town straight, regardless of the vampires and demons. Or including them.

They worked together in quiet companionship for about half an hour before Gibbs' cell rang.

"Yeah, Gibbs."

Xander couldn't hear the other end, but Gibbs hung up after a minute anyway.

"Let's go, Harris. Dead marine behind a nightclub. We'll pick up breakfast on the way."

* * *

The alley was narrow and dirty in the early morning light. The MCRT van would probably have fit, but only just, so it was parked across the entrance to the alleyway instead. Palmer would have to park behind them when he and Ducky arrived.

Gibbs flashed his badge at the local cops guarding the scene and ducked under the crime scene tape. Ziva, Tony and Xander hurried to follow, crime scene kits in hand. A man in a brown jacket approached.

"Special Agent Gibbs" he nodded.

"Detective Hurst," Gibbs responded. "I hear you found one of our boys down here."

The detective motioned towards a dumpster, sitting out from the wall at an angle. An arm could be seen sticking out from behind it.

"Gunshot wound to the temple, no other obvious injuries. Garbage truck driver found him when he came to empty the bin. When our ME found the wallet and his ID, we called you."

"Where's the truck driver now?"

"Had him move his truck around the corner, sent a uniform with him to make sure he stayed put."

"DiNozzo."

"On it boss." Tony walked away to interview the driver, pulling a notepad and pen from his pocket.

"Harris, photograph and sketch; David, bag and tag. And somebody find out where Ducky is," Gibbs ordered. There was the sound of a truck pulling up outside the alley, and they all turned to see the autopsy van parking behind their own.

"Forget that," Gibbs amended. Xander grabbed the camera bag, pleased to have a job that wouldn't require too much use of his injured arm. He moved away to photograph the body but could still hear the conversation.

"I'll write up a report of what my guys have seen and done here and get it to you ASAP, then we'll stay out of your hair," Hurst said. "I'll tell the uniforms to stay until body's gone."

Gibbs raised an eyebrow at him. "Any reason you're being so damn helpful, Detective Hurst? Had a change of heart since we last met?"

Hurst snorted. "If I remember rightly, you weren't exactly a paragon of inter-agency co-operation yourself."

Gibbs just stared at him, waiting. Hurst shrugged.

"Honestly? We're snowed under right now. Violent crimes and murders have been up dramatically in the last week or so. Every team's working extra cases. We can only hope it's going to settle down this week."

"Not if this is any indication," Gibbs noted. Hurst shrugged again.

"Well, as I just said, I've got plenty else to be doing. See ya round."

The detective walked away, ducking under the police tape. Gibbs walked over to where Ducky and Palmer were now leaning over the body.

"Time of death, Duck?"

"Will require another moment of your patience, Jethro. This bullet wound though," Ducky peered at it. "Burn marks and tearing in the skin around the entry wound."

"Point blank range?"

"Almost definitely. And so far no other signs of injury, let alone any that might be fatal. As for the time..." he checked the temperature on the liver probe. "I'd say about midnight, give or take an hour."

* * *

Gibbs strode into the bullpen.

"Sitrep."

Ziva jumped in first as they gathered around the plasma. A photo of their dead guy - taken in happier times - came up on the screen.

"Private First Class Jonas O'Reilly, 22 years old, enlisted in the marines almost a year ago. Service record is clean, his reports and scores are also good, though not exceptional. Also tracked down his civilian file since he hasn't been in the marines long, and that was clean also. He received a speeding ticket once in high school."

Tony was next. "I spoke to the manager and one of the bouncers from the nightclub -our guy was definitely there last night, along with a mate of his, who they reckon was another marine, judging by the haircut. Bouncer says they arrived around 9pm, but neither of them saw O'Reilly leave. There were two other bouncers working last night that might have been on the door when he left. Manager will call them in if we want to speak to them."

Gibbs nodded. "Do that. Harris?"

"I spoke to O'Reilly's CO, he backed up the service record, said O'Reilly was a good kid, hard worker, solid team member. Also said he was pretty close to a Private First Class Hugo Taylor, who was probably the other marine at the club last night," Xander paused a moment to grab the remote from Ziva and bring up Taylor's picture on the screen. "This is where it gets interesting. Taylor didn't show up this morning. Their CO was going to report them both UA but was holding off since neither have been in trouble or even been late before. Now that he knows O'Reilly is dead, he's filing the UA report on Taylor as we speak."

Gibbs' eyes narrowed at the implications. Either Private Taylor was involved in his friend's death, or he was also in trouble.

"DiNozzo, Ziva, interview their unit. I want to know everything about their daily lives: what they ate, where they went, who they spoke to. Harris, with me. Let's see what Ducky's got for us."

* * *

"Ah Jethro, I was just about to call you," said Ducky. "I'm just finishing up here."

"What we got, Duck?" asked Gibbs shortly. He and Xander stopped alongside the body.

"Exactly what it looks like. GSW at point blank range to the head. Poor lad would have died instantly."

"Is that all?"

"Well, technically, yes."

"Duck." Gibbs' mood was souring.

"Well, there are no other wounds at all," Ducky explained, motioning to the hands in particular. "This is a very fit and strong young man. You would expect to see defensive wounds of some sort."

Xander glanced down. The marine's hands were clean and completely undamaged -no bruises, no scratches, nothing. "He didn't fight back, even though the killer was close enough to shoot point blank," he commented. "Drunk, or drugged, maybe?"

"Maybe. I've sent Palmer to take the blood samples up to Abby for screening," agreed Ducky.

"Or the other option," growled Gibbs. "He knew his killer."

* * *

Abby confirmed that Private O'Reilly had several beers in the hours before his death, but he was just barely over the driving limit and not drunk enough to be helpless - although it might have been easier for someone to sneak up on him, especially after being in the loud nightclub for several hours. She didn't find any other drugs or unusual substances in his blood. Since Tony and Ziva were going to be some time interviewing O'Reilly and Taylor's unit, Gibbs and Xander left to search their rooms on base.

Both pairs came back to the Navy Yard empty handed. There had been nothing in the marines' shared rooms to indicate they had been planning anything but a night out. Ziva and Tony reported that all the marines in their unit said roughly the same thing: both good guys, neither ever caused trouble. O'Reilly had broken up with a girlfriend a month ago; but Ziva had made a few calls and not only had they parted on friendly terms, the girl was also holidaying in San Francisco. Phone records confirmed they hadn't had any contact in the last three weeks.

Gibbs was called up to Director Vance's office to give him an update on how the case was going. This left the team at something of a loose end, with no obvious leads to follow, so instead they were being extra thorough. Checking the all the phone records and bank statements of the two marines would keep them occupied for some time, and hopefully they would find something to give them a new direction.

Gibbs returned from Vance's office with a new determination in his stride.

"DiNozzo, pull up the case file on a Lance Corporal Stewart Lang. Case was opened by Fallon's team a week ago."

DiNozzo pulled it up on the plasma and summarised. "Lance Corporal Lang was reported UA ten days ago, NCIS opened an investigation three days later when neither his unit nor his family could reach him. He was last known to be going out to a nightclub, roommate says he never came home."

"Same nightclub we found O'Reilly at. Think it's related?" asked Xander.

"Vance thinks so," said Gibbs. "Find me a connection between them."

"Gibbs. I believe there may be more involved," said Ziva. She had been tapping away busily at her keyboard. She stood and brought up a list on the screen.

"This is a list of all the open cases of UA marines NCIS has investigated in the last three months. The ones I have highlighted are those which clearly state that the last place the person was seen or known to be going was a bar or nightclub here in D.C. There may be of course be more where that detail wasn't mentioned in the case summary."

Xander whistled at the list. "Is it normal for so many marines to be reported UA?"

"To be reported UA, yes," answered Tony. "To remain UA long enough to be investigated by us? No. And for this many cases to remain open after an initial investigation? Definitely not."

Gibbs grunted in agreement. "Ziva, refine that list. I want to know exactly how many we're looking at and how long this has been happening. And why the hell nobody else has picked this up!" He strode off towards the stairs again. Even Gibbs wouldn't keep Vance in the dark about a development this big.

The team set to work. Xander and Tony started getting details on the other nightclub-related cases, whilst Ziva narrowed down the list of other UA marines to just those that might be involved. Eventually she had a list of eleven missing marines.

"What did Vance say, Boss?" asked Tony, as Gibbs re-entered the bullpen.

"What have we got?" Gibbs asked Ziva, ignoring the question.

"Ten enlisted marines confirmed missing over the last seven weeks, all of whom had mentioned going to a bar or club, or were last seen at one. And one more which I think might be involved -he fits the profile, but he hadn't mentioned his plans to anyone, so we don't know if he went out for drinks that night."

"What's the profile?"

Xander jumped up, bringing up a screen with photos of the eleven marines, including Private Taylor. "They are all junior marines: three Privates, four Private First Class, four Lance Corporals. But that's about where the similarities end."

"Did they all go to the nightclub where we found O'Reilly?"

"No," answered Xander. "For those where we know where they were headed, we've got five different bars and clubs, none of them connected. There's a few where we're not sure where they were headed the night before they went UA."

Tony took over. "Two of the marines had been reported UA before, one for only a morning, the other a full day. Two others had formal reprimands in their files for different offences. The other seven all had excellent reports from their CO's. Two of the Lance Corporals had very good composite scores and were expected to be promoted to Corporal soon."

Ziva spoke up, not to be left out. "Ten lived in standard on-base housing, one lived off-base with a long-term girlfriend. Four are Caucasian, three African-American, three Hispanic, one Asian-American."

"What about their units?" asked Gibbs. "Did they work together? Know each other?"

"Not as far as we can tell," she replied. "Two of the Private First Class marines were from the same unit, but went missing five weeks apart and apparently from different clubs. Three of the Lance Corporals went through basic training together but were placed in different units later."

"We're still cross-referencing their phone records, Boss," said Tony. "But so far we haven't found any indication that they were in contact with each other, with the exception of the two that were in the same unit."

"And there's nothing in any of their bank accounts to suggest unusual income or transactions," Xander finished.

Gibbs was glaring at the screen. "There has to be a connection. Find it. Eleven junior marines don't go missing one by one for no reason. And find out why O'Reilly turned up dead instead of missing!"

The team looked at each other blankly. They had no answers.

"Why are you all still standing here? Pull up everything from those cases and go over it again!" Gibbs ordered. They dashed back to their desks and put their heads down.

Gibbs grunted. "Better get Abby to go through all the physical evidence again," he muttered, leaving the bullpen. His three team members breathed a sigh of relief when the elevator doors closed.

"This is a little weird," Tony commented.

"What is?" asked Ziva.

"The whole thing." Tony leaned back, hands behind his head, apparently deep in thought. "When people go missing suddenly, without any sign of having planned to leave permanently, and are never heard from again, it usually means they've either been murdered, or abducted. But if they've been murdered, why have we not found any of their bodies?"

"Maybe they hid them too well, or disposed of the bodies thoroughly," said Ziva.

"Sure, but then why kill O'Reilly and leave him behind?"

"But it's not abduction," said Xander. "If they were abducted there would be a ransom or something, right?"

"Right," agreed Tony. "You don't abduct someone unless there's a decent benefit of some sort, usually financial. Why would you abduct a bunch of junior marines?"

"Why would you kill a bunch of junior marines, who apparently had no connections to each other?" returned Ziva.

The three looked at each other, all clueless. Xander sighed.

"Guess we better start going over these cases."

They kept their heads down for the next few hours, going over everything they could find. Phone records, bank records, forensics reports, statements and interview transcriptions from the earlier investigations.

Nobody noticed the dark-haired man approaching the bullpen until he was there, clearing his throat.

"Excuse me, I'm looking for Special Agent Gibbs?"

Tony jumped and even Ziva looked startled for a brief moment. Ziva recovered first.

"That would be our boss, he will be back shortly. Maybe I can help you?" Ziva asked with a smile, as if she had never been startled. She obviously thought the stranger was attractive.

"Angel?" Xander asked in surprise.

Angel looked over at him. "Xander?"

Both spoke in unison. "What are you doing here?"


	7. Chapter 7

Xander and Angel looked across the bullpen at each other in surprise.

"I take it you two know each other," said Tony, looking back and forth between them.

"Yeah," said Angel. "Though it's been, what? Six or seven years?" He approached Xander's desk. "What happened to your eye?"

"An accident with a priest." Xander grinned goofily as he rolled out his usual response.

"A priest? Not Caleb?" asked Angel seriously.

Xander's grin disappeared. The story about the priest was supposed to throw people off, not give them the answer. "You heard about Caleb?" he frowned.

"Met him. Sort of. Buffy didn't mention he'd..." Angel gestured towards Xander's eye.

"Wait," Tony interrupted. "I thought that line about the priest was just a joke."

Xander glanced over at Tony, then shrugged. He didn't want to talk about it. Taking a deep breath, he recovered his cheery disposition and turned back to Angel. "That's old news. So. In answer to your other question, I work here. These are my colleagues, Special Agents DiNozzo and David. What's your reason? I thought you lived in LA."

"I do. I'm here on business," Angel replied. "The guy murdered at a nightclub last night? The police told me NCIS was handling it and Special Agent Gibbs was in charge."

"So you're here on a case?" Xander asked.

Angel appeared to consider the question, as though there wasn't an easy answer to it. "Uh..."

"You're a LEO?" Tony interrupted again. Now Angel looked confused.

"No," answered Xander. "He's a PI."

"Gibbs won't like that," Ziva commented from the corner, where she had been quietly observing the newcomer. "He hates working with anyone else, but civilians are bottom of the list."

Angel checked his watch as though her assertion didn't bother him. "Will he be back soon? Spike and Illyria are waiting for me, and as you know, Spike's not the most patient guy around."

"Spike's here?" Xander asked, surprised. He paused for a moment. "Could I catch up with you guys, while you're in town?"

"You want to see Spike? I thought you hated him."

"I did, mostly," said Xander with a wry grin. "But he and I fo-" Xander stopped himself. He didn't want to refer to fighting, despite the small amounts he'd told Gibbs and Tony (and he had assumed that what Tony knew, Ziva and Abby would know by now). "I knew him far better than I ever knew you," he finished somewhat lamely.

Angel nodded, apparently either understanding or knowing now was not the time to ask. "Sure. Call whenever. Number's on the card."

Xander took the proffered business card. "You have a cell phone? And can use it? I'm impressed."

"I can answer calls," Angel said defensively. "Spike handles most of that stuff. Must have something to do with him being younger."

Xander snorted. "Not that much younger, in the scheme of things."

"He's half my age!"

Xander laughed at Angel's indignation. It was hilarious to think they were comparing the ages of a 200+ year old vampire against a 100+ year old one. Neither should be good with technology by today's standards, where even 50 years old made you out of date. Or, on the other hand, they were both perpetually young and should both be good with technology. Neither scenario worked.

"Probie, am I hearing this correctly?" asked Tony, still blatantly unashamed to be listening in. "Your friend here is as technophobic as the boss?"

"Worse."

"Hey!" said Angel indignantly. "At least I'm not as bad as Illyria."

"Which reminds me, who's Illyria?" asked Xander.

Angel shook his head. "I can't even begin to answer that one."

"Not your type, then?" Xander phrased the question innocently enough, knowing Angel would get it but it wouldn't be enough for his colleagues to draw any conclusions. It just sounded like he was asking about Illyria's chances as a romantic prospect.

"No, and not yours either," Angel confirmed.

Ziva stood, looking pointedly in Angel's direction. "Ah, Mister..."

"Just Angel."

"Angel," she smiled. "I was just going to fetch a coffee, would you like one while I'm there?"

Angel smiled back. "No, but thank you."

"I'll have one, Zi-ver," grinned Tony. "My usual, thanks." Ziva made a face at Tony as she left the bullpen, much to his delight.

There was an awkward pause.

"So, uh... how's the gang?" Angel asked, obviously trying to make small talk.

"Fine, last I heard. We only email occasionally." Angel raised his eyebrows in surprise. Xander shrugged. "The Scoobies have moved onto bigger and better things. That means they're busy. Look, Angel, why are you here? Even if your case overlaps with ours, Gibbs won't let you work with us."

"Ah, well, 'case' implies someone's hired me to solve something," Angel said evasively. "It's more... look, I came here to warn your boss. Maybe you can pass it on to him for me."

"Nope," said Gibbs, striding into the room. "Whatever you have to say, you can say it directly to me."

"Special Agent Gibbs?" Angel asked formally.

"Well, yeah," Gibbs replied, heavy on the sarcasm. He dumped some files on his desk and dropped into his seat, looking at his monitor as though Angel was of no interest. Angel hovered at the side of his desk.

"I'm Angel, I'm a private investigator."

Gibbs spared a moment to glare at him. Angel hurried on.

"That marine that was murdered last night, I believe he's not the only one. There may be others in trouble."

"Well yeah, we know," said Gibbs in exasperation, as though Angel was trying to explain that the sky was blue. "We've got at least eleven others missing. What do you know of it?"

Angel actually fidgeted a little, Xander noticed with interest. It seemed more than 200 years of un-life, and experience as the CEO of an evil law firm wasn't enough to make you immune to Gibbs' glares.

"Well, not much. Only that there's plans to take more. Probably. So it might be a good idea if you issued some kind of memo that marines shouldn't be out alone after dark... or something like that," Angel finished quickly.

Gibbs stepped around his desk to stand toe-to-toe with Angel. Angel was an inch taller but Gibbs was easily the more imposing.

"We've had some bad experiences with PI's in the past, so forgive me if I'm not particularly accommodating," he grated. "Tell. Me. What. You. Know."

"Nothing that would help you," Angel stepped back slightly. "I don't know who's behind it, or where the missing marines are, or if they're still alive. Only that more will, probably, be taken."

"How do you know?" Angel hesitated, so Gibbs repeated himself, louder. " _How do you know!_ "

Angel looked conflicted, as though uncertain whether to answer honestly or not. He turned.

"Xander? If I-"

"Unless your sources have first names and surnames, I wouldn't bother," Xander replied casually, already knowing what Angel was going to ask. Gibbs would not be impressed by information that came from an old scroll or ancient tome, nor would he appreciate a source that had only one name and no social security number, like most demon informants. "It would be a waste of his time and yours."

Angel nodded and seemed to straighten, as though Xander's opinion had strengthened his own.

"You _would_ dismiss my sources as unreliable. There's no point. But my message stands - warn the marines, and reduce the risk of others going missing."

"I don't take orders from civilians," Gibbs growled. "If you're only here to play games, get out, before I arrest you for impeding our investigation."

Angel glanced at Xander, who shrugged. Angel sighed and stepped back before turning away. He passed Ziva on his way to the elevator. She looked around as she entered the bullpen with a tray of coffees.

"What has happened?" she asked in confusion.

* * *

After Angel left, Gibbs had grabbed a bit of paper off his desk, and told Tony to take it to the Director. Turned out Gibbs had already planned to send out a warning memo. Vance had already been briefed and would speak to SecNav, who would have the message sent out to all units stationed at Quantico or anywhere else within D.C. All marines, but especially those in the junior ranks, would be advised not to go out to bars or clubs alone.

Xander had endured some interrogation about Angel afterwards, but Gibbs had finally accepted his explanation that Angel was just the 'ex-boyfriend of a friend from high school'. He also managed to convince Gibbs that he didn't know exactly who or what Angel's sources were, only a vague knowledge of the kind of 'unreliable sort' Angel hung out with. Xander hadn't intended to discredit Angel entirely, but he couldn't exactly tell Gibbs what kind of sources Angel was probably using, could he?

Gibbs' last question had thrown him though. It was much later, after they'd spent the rest of the afternoon and most of the evening trawling through the UA case files and personal information from the missing marines, trying to find a hint of what had happened. Gibbs had finally told them to call it a night, and go home and get some sleep. His team had wearily and gratefully packed up and headed for the elevator.

At the last minute, Gibbs had called Xander back. He'd stopped at the entrance to the bullpen.

"Yeah, Boss?"

"Who are the Scoobies?"

Xander looked over at Gibbs in surprise. He certainly wasn't expecting that. He tried to figure out how to best answer.

"Family," he replied, not specifying whether they were his own, or just _a_ family. "That I mostly lost touch with a few months after Sunnydale collapsed. They moved to Europe."

"You were travelling around then too, weren't you?"

"Yeah. Spent some time with them there. But they settled abroad and I wanted to come back to the States. We made promises to call and visit, but you know how it goes. We still email, but not as often as we thought we would."

Gibbs had nodded and Xander had rejoined his teammates, who were holding the elevator for him.

But instead of going home, Xander had pulled out his cell and called Angel. He knew the vampire would know much more about what was going on than he could say in front of the team. And while they had never been best buddies in the past, if there was something supernatural going on with these missing marines, then Xander needed to know what it was.

Besides, Spike was here too. And yeah, okay, Xander hadn't exactly liked him much for a long time either, but by the end they'd have called each other friends. Hell, Spike had been his roommate twice, and they'd worked alongside each other all those months when Buffy was gone, and the bleached-blonde vampire had been a pretty decent guy by the time Sunnydale was destroyed. Not to forget Spike's part in that.

Xander pushed the door open to the tinkling sound of the bell. The 24-hour diner was exactly the classic sort seen in movies: a row of booths down one side, a counter with stools along it down the other, all decked out in red and white. It was obviously designed to draw in the tourists with it's tacky old-cafe style.

He moved towards the back and heard them before he saw them.

"I can't _believe_ they don't let you smoke in these places anymore. What is the world coming to? I remember when not only could you smoke anywhere, but it was expected. No self-respecting gentleman went out without his pipe."

"You were never a gentleman, Spike," Angel responded drily.

"I _was_ a gentleman, before you and the ladies came along," Spike retorted. "Xander! Heard you missed me. Can't blame you really, I am a charming bastard."

Xander rolled his eyes and shuffled into the booth beside Angel. "I'm not sure 'missed' is the right word, Spike. If you can guarantee it'll be several years between each time I see you, I'll be pleased and relieved."

"Love you too, pal," Spike grinned.

Xander ordered a coffee from the waitress. "So, where's your other person? Illyria, wasn't it?"

Angel nodded. "She's back at our hotel. She doesn't uh, blend too well with people. In L.A. she can get away with it most of the time, but not so much here."

"From what you said earlier, I assume she's not human?" Xander asked.

Angel and Spike proceeded to explain who Illyria was and how she had come to join them. Since it had happened during Angel's time as CEO of Wolfram & Hart, and the Scoobies and fledgling Slayer organisation had disapproved of Angel being in that position, the story hadn't really gotten around. Even after Wolfram & Hart's destruction, open communication had never really been re-established between the two groups.

Xander was horrified by the story of what had happened to Fred. He'd never met the physics genius, but Willow had both met her and quite liked her. The vampires had gone on to explain that only the three of them had survived the destruction of Wolfram & Hart, and had subsequently returned to operating Angel Investigations from the Hyperion Hotel. Illyria, partly out of her interest in Wesley before his death, and partially due to the bits of Fred's memories she retained, had taken over as the scholar of the team - though she still liked to get into the physical action whenever she could as well. She was quick to learn new languages, especially the oldest demon languages, which resembled her native tongue, and spent a lot of time translating scrolls and old writings.

"Which is how we ended up here," said Spike. "See, Illyria found this prophecy."

"The Faligata Prophecy," supplied Angel.

"Whatever." Spike waved a hand dismissively. "Basically, it says that if some demon happens to be in the right position in the human world at the right time, he's going to come into a heap of wealth and power."

"Only it's a lot less clear about it than that," said Angel. "It's vague on almost every point: when, where, who, how, even the what isn't certain. The 'wealth and power' bit is the most popular translation, but not the _only_ translation."

Xander shook his head. Sounded like a typical prophecy. "So that's brought you to D.C. because...?"

"Well, as it turns out," answered Spike, "we seem to be the last to know about it. It's one of the most popular prophecies in the demon world. And while there's no reason to think it's the _right_ translation, there is one that's become very well known."

"Some smart Japanese demon," said Angel wearily. "Published it a year ago - ' _Fiyido's Book of Prophecies_ '. Made a fortune. His translation specifically mentions Washington D.C. and the 'right position' is some unspecified government job. As if that weren't bad enough, Fiyido published a new edition ten weeks ago, which said that the prophecy should take place next week. "

Xander recalled the 'crime wave' Detective Hurst had referred to in the alley where Private First Class O'Reilly had been found. And that the first marine had gone missing seven weeks ago. "So now every demon that can pass for human is doing whatever they can to get a government job that might lead to wealth and power?"

"Yep," agreed Spike, jabbing his finger at the table. "And the closer we get to the end of next week, the messier it's getting."

"And you two are here to see if you can get a government job for yourselves?"

It took them a moment, but then Angel and Spike both started protesting indignantly. Xander eventually held up his hands in a placating gesture.

"Alright, I get it, you're not here for the riches and power. So why are you here?"

Spike looked pointedly at Angel. Angel sighed.

"Well, I hoped we'd be able to prevent some of the violence, protect people, you know."

Xander snorted. "Great job you're doing there. The local police told us they're snowed under by violent crime cases."

"There's only three of us," Angel objected. "We can't be everywhere. We don't even know who we should try to protect, since every government official or employee, human or demon, is probably in danger."

"Which is why I argued against the bother of coming at all!" Spike put in.

Xander decided he needed a refill. He slid out of the booth and ordered another coffee at the counter, stretching his legs a bit whilst he waited. When he returned to the table, he noticed Spike and Angel's cups had also been refilled, with a suspiciously dark red liquid. He spotted Spike slipping a thermos back inside his leather duster.

"What?" asked Spike. "You gotta be prepared when you're travelling."

Xander figured he ought to be grateful they'd thought ahead.

"So, I know why you're in D.C." he said, sliding back into the booth. "So what's with the missing marines? What brought you to NCIS?"

Spike snorted. "I told him not to bother with that. We know so little it would be pointless."

Angel sighed again. "Yeah, that was a bit of a waste of time. I just thought, maybe if they were warned, at least it'd be harder for any more to be taken..."

"They were warned," Xander interrupted. "Gibbs had already been planning to send out a message."

Angel paused in surprise. "Wait, so all that show your boss put on..."

"Was because he didn't like you and he wanted to know everything you knew about it," finished Xander. "You know, you're lucky Gibbs didn't lock you in interrogation until you told him everything. We only just found the pattern of missing marines this morning, so the fact that you knew _anything_ was very suspicious."

Angel threw up his hands in exasperation. "I was only trying to help," he complained.

Xander tried to get back on topic. "Whatever, just tell me what you _do_ know."

"We heard rumours that someone's doing a Badinok Spell. Ever heard of it?" asked Angel. Xander shook his head.

"The Badinok Spell allows you to take on the strength and health of others," Spike explained. "The bonus is that you can take on the strength and health of more than one person at time. Make yourself as strong as three Fyarl demons - or a bunch of marines. Considered doing it myself a few times, back in the old days. 'Course, it wasn't as easy to get hold of all the spell ingredients back then."

"When we first heard the rumours I assumed they would be randomly picking victims off the street," commented Angel. "But I kept checking missing persons reports and there was no influx of young healthy people. It wasn't until we heard about your dead marine that I realised that the best candidates for the spell would be marines, and there's no shortage of them around here."

Xander tried to get his head around it. "Okay, so someone - or some demon - is collecting marines and then doing a spell to make himself into a super-human or super-demon."

"That's about it," agreed Spike.

"So why did they kill Private O'Reilly?"

"The spell is pretty precise," Angel explained. "You take on the health and strength of the victim. If you take on the health of someone who's sick or injured, then you will be too. So your dead guy probably had something wrong with him."

Xander shook his head - he didn't recall anything in O'Reilly's file to suggest that was true, but he could double-check tomorrow.

"So that's it?"

"Yeah, that's all we've got," said Angel. "We'll keep trying to track down the source of the rumour, but until we do..."

Xander nodded. There wasn't much else they could do until they knew more. Knowing why the marines had been taken was a start, but it wasn't enough.

He stood. "I know it's still early for you guys, but I'm beat, and I have to be back at work in..." he checked his watch and groaned, "...not enough hours. Let me know if you find anything, yeah?"

He made his way wearily out of the diner and into the night. As he crossed the carpark, he got the eerie sense that he was being watched. He waited until he was beside his car before glancing around surreptitiously. There, parked in the back corner. He couldn't see who was in the vehicle, but he didn't need to: he knew Ziva's car well enough to recognise it. He groaned as he got into his car. Gibbs must have told her to follow him.

Tomorrow was promising to be another long day.


	8. Chapter 8

Despite the short night's rest, Xander was in before Tony and Ziva the next morning. Gibbs, of course, was already at his desk. Xander decided to get straight to the point.

"Did you tell Ziva to follow me last night?"

Gibbs looked up, seemingly unsurprised by the question. "Yes. Did you have a nice evening of reminiscing, or did your friends have something to say about the case?"

"See, asking me outright I'm fine with. Being followed I'm not so keen on," Xander stated.

"Your friend was hiding something, and we've got a bunch of missing marines. It doesn't inspire trust."

"I don't expect you to trust him. I expect you to trust me."

Gibbs locked gazes with Xander for a minute, before giving a single nod in acknowledgement. Xander knew that was about as close to an apology he would probably get.

"So, did he know anything?"

Xander shrugged. "Angel told me what he'd heard, and he was right - it didn't give us any obvious leads." He paused. "Has Abby done the report on O'Reilly's blood yet?"

"Yeah, it's here." Gibbs handed the file to Xander and then watched as the younger man looked through it, pausing on one of the pages. "Looking for something specific?"

"Maybe," Xander answered vaguely, paying more attention to the file than his boss. "Yeah, here: Abby found pseudoephedrine hydrochloride, acetaminophen and codeine phosphate."

"Standard cold and flu tablet, she said. The non-drowsy 'day' tablet from a 'day and night' pack."

Xander nodded. "That's why O'Reilly was killed. He had a cold."

"Explain," ordered Gibbs. Xander had his full attention now. He phrased it the careful way he'd worked out earlier.

"There's some people out there who believe in magic. They think they can do a sort of spell or ritual that will transfer the strength and health of a marine to themselves."

Gibbs' eyes narrowed. "We're dealing with a cult?"

"Something like that, according to the rumours Angel had heard. He's trying to track down the source of the rumours, but until he does, they're only rumours."

"So when they realised O'Reilly was sick..."

"He would have been unsuitable for their purposes. They took Taylor, and disposed of O'Reilly," Xander summarised.

Gibbs stood quickly, grabbing his gun and badge. "Where did he hear this rumour? We'll track it down ourselves."

"I don't know," replied Xander. "But I do know someone else we can ask."

"Then why are we still here?"

* * *

Xander led the way into the dingy bar. It was hours before opening time, but Frak had enthusiastically introduced Xander to the manager when they'd first had drinks some weeks ago. The manager had happily offered to let the 'One Who Sees' use the place for meetings if he ever needed to. Of course, Xander had hoped he wouldn't need to take up that offer so soon.

Frak was already waiting for them, sipping some drink.

"Frank," Xander greeted, emphasising the human name just a little and hoping Frak would understand what it meant.

"Xander! Oh hey man, how you been? Haven't seen you for a couple of weeks, you know? Suppose that means you've been busy, you know, federal agent and all. So were you serious about what you said on the phone? Oh, I can't wait to tell Clem about this, you know?"

Xander waited patiently for the babble to cease. He motioned to the man beside him.

"Frank, this is my boss, Special Agent Gibbs. Gibbs, this is Frank."

"Frank," Gibbs said, offering his hand. Xander had warned Gibbs not to mention Frank's 'skin condition' and Gibbs had agreed to let Xander handle the talking, much to Xander's relief.

Frak looked at Gibbs as if only just realising the second man was there. He took Gibbs' hand and shook it enthusiastically.

"So you're Xander's boss? He must be the best on your team right, because, you know, he _is_ the best, isn't he? I mean, I know your other agents must be good and all, but, you know, this is Xander! _The_ Xander! I mean, how could anyone be-"

"Frank!" Xander cut him off.

"Sorry, sorry, it's just, you know, you're a hero man!"

"What did I say about that word?" Xander asked. He sighed. He'd tried to lay down a few rules last time they'd met up, but obviously some things were going to take a while to sink in. Xander risked a sideways glance at his boss. Gibbs was keeping his face carefully neutral, which only confirmed Xander's suspicion that there would be questions to answer later.

"Sorry, sorry," Frank said again.

Xander motioned to the table and they sat down.

"So, you know I called because we need information."

"Sure, sure, anything you need," Frak replied eagerly. "You know, stuff's been happening lately. I've never seen it so crazy round here. You heard about the Faligata, right?"

"Yeah, we heard," Xander replied.

"You know, I'd love to get myself a piece of that action! But I don't think cleaning government offices is likely to be the right position, you know?"

Xander chuckled. "No, probably not. Sorry Frank."

Frak waved a hand dismissively. "Ah well, I haven't got a bad lot in life, you know? Not really."

"What we're really interested in, is what you might have heard about a Badinok," said Xander.

Suddenly, Frak's entire body language changed. His constant grin disappeared, and he sat back. He glanced around nervously.

"A -a Badinok? I haven't heard anything about that, no, definitely not."

"Are you sure? No rumours going around about it?"

Frak shook his head vehemently. "No, no rumours. I mean, really, if I was going to do something like that - which I'm not, no way - I wouldn't go around mentioning it to people, you know?"

"Yeah, well, apparently there is a rumour," Xander replied. "Listen, can you at least try to see if you can find out about it for us?

Frak's face clearly said 'no', but his hero-worship of Xander won out.

"Err, yeah, I suppose," he said reluctantly.

"Find out anything you can. If you hear about it, see if there's any mention of where the missing people have been taken, or who's doing it."

"Sure, sure. If I hear anything, I'll let you know." Frak clearly wanted to get off the topic. Xander grinned.

"Being a 'source' not as fun as you thought it might be, huh?"

Frak appeared to relax a little. "Well, you know, I thought it'd be more small time stuff. Like drugs or something, you know? You don't get much criminal activity in D.C. - at least, not amongst my kind. Until now."

Xander inwardly cringed at Frak's mention of 'his kind' - they'd been doing so well up to that point. Oh well. He'd have to deal with that later.

"Yeah, well, should all be over soon," he assured the demon.

Frak nodded. "Next week, right?"

Xander nodded and stood, the other two following his lead. He thanked Frak again and reminded him to call if he heard anything. Gibbs nodded politely at Frak before they headed back out to the car.

Gibbs was driving of course. Xander waited quietly for Gibbs to start with the questions. It didn't take long.

"I need answers Harris," he stated. He looked mildly surprised when Xander simply nodded.

"I know. I'll answer where I can."

"What's a Badinok?"

"The spell I told you about earlier. It's called a Badinok Spell."

"And that other word Frank mentioned?"

Xander thought for a moment. "Faligata? It's a prophecy. The Faligata Prophecy."

"You believe in that stuff, Harris?"

"Doesn't matter what I believe, Boss," Xander answered easily. "What matters is that they do."

"And _they_ are?" Gibbs responded. "Something to do with the people Frank referred to as 'his kind'?"

Xander struggled with himself. It would be a hell of a lot easier to deal with things if he wasn't constantly trying to hide things from his boss. On the other hand, he didn't know how well someone as straight-laced as Gibbs would take the news.

"Harris," Gibbs said, a hint of warning in his voice. "This isn't a cult. A cult is small, enclosed, secretive. Your friend back there is clearly not a member of a cult, but you expect he could find out about what's going on. This doesn't fit the profile of a cult at all."

"Yeah, I know Boss," Xander sighed. He hesitated. He had planned for so long to never even consider telling Gibbs the truth - why was he suddenly considering it now?

"Harris!" Gibbs barked. "You want me to trust you, then you have to give me something back. It's a two-way street."

That was the final straw.

Alright, here goes nothing. "Here's the thing. Demons are real."

"Demons..." Gibbs echoed thoughtfully, with a hint of confusion. "That's what this is about?"

Xander turned to stare at Gibbs. "You know about demons?"

Gibbs shrugged. "It's not talked about, but most marines who have seen battle in a desert find out sooner or later. They follow the battles. Something about the battlefield and the stench of death. But they generally only come at night, once all men are gone. I've only seen a demon twice, and even then it was dark and at a distance."

Well, that would make things easier. Xander hadn't heard specifically of demons which followed along the trail of fights and wars, but it wasn't surprising.

"Right. Okay. Well, the demons here in D.C. are mostly the civilised, political sort-"

"Wait. Demons can be civilised?" Gibbs paused. "I thought they were more like animals -never realised they might have the intelligence for..." A realisation hit him. " _Frank_ is a demon?"

"Err, maybe we should pull over," Xander suggested quickly. The last thing they needed was for Gibbs' usually erratic driving to get any worse. Thankfully Gibbs seemed to agree because he pulled into a parking lot a moment later. Once they were parked, Gibbs turned properly towards Xander.

"Alright. Give it to me straight, Harris."

Xander took a deep breath. "There are all sorts of demons. Some are evil, some are not. Some can pass for human, others never could. D.C. is a political city, so it mostly attracts demons who want to succeed in life through money and politics. They work their way up the same way as any human would, and mostly play by the rules - which is why Frank said criminal activity amongst his kind is low. Any demon that wants to do well in D.C. doesn't want to attract attention by breaking the law."

Xander gave Gibbs a moment to absorb this information.

"Right," the older man said eventually. "So what's changed?"

"The Faligata Prophecy. Which is mostly likely false or incorrectly translated anyway. Basically, there's a popular translation that says some unnamed demon will become rich and powerful if he's in the right government job in D.C. at the end of next week."

"So everyone's jostling for position, resulting in the crime wave the Detective told us about."

"Exactly." Xander was relieved that Gibbs was focussing on analysing the current situation, rather than trying to get his head around a new worldview.

"Where do our missing marines come into it?"

"The Badinok Spell, like I said. Someone intends to use the strength of the marines for themselves - whether to defend their position or be strong enough to attack someone else's, I don't know."

Gibbs nodded, and sat in thought for a moment longer before restarting the car and driving out onto the road again. The rest of brief trip passed in silence. Xander was relieved at the lack of questions, whilst also figuring Gibbs needed the time to absorb what he'd heard.

* * *

Tony and Ziva were in the bullpen when Xander and Gibbs walked in.

"Yes, do you know if they were going out last night?" Ziva asked, phone cradled on her shoulder while she took notes.

"Two marines from one unit reported UA this morning, Boss," Tony explained as they entered the bullpen. "Ziva's just getting details. Where have you two been?"

"Following up a lead," Gibbs answered shortly. "What have we got?" he asked Ziva as she put down the phone.

"Two Lance Corporals told their fellow marines they were going out last night, and didn't show up this morning. Their CO reported them UA when they were just 15 minutes late, thanks to the warning we sent out."

"Nothing to indicate they are UA for any other reason?"

"Not that he knows of. I haven't looked up their service records yet, but their CO says they're both excellent marines and have never been UA before," Ziva reported.

"Do we know where they were going?"

"Yes, they were headed to a club called The Suite."

"Let's get going then," Gibbs ordered.

* * *

There was nothing to see at the club. The team covered every inch of it inside and out, but there were no signs of struggle or foul play at all. They had returned to the bullpen to go over the two marines' service records. As the CO had reported, they both had excellent reports and neither had ever been in trouble.

Gibbs turned from the plasma. "Ziva."

"Gibbs?"

"Give those security tapes to Harris, then you and DiNozzo go talk to the unit these two were from. Make sure there's no chance they went UA of their own accord."

"You sure that's necessary, boss?" asked Tony. Gibbs sent him a glare. "Right, of course," Tony backpedalled. "Always double check. On it Boss."

Ziva handed the tapes to Xander, and followed Tony out of the bullpen. Xander sat down and started going through the footage. The club had two cameras at the front entrance and one in the alley at the back. There were several cameras inside the club but Xander was hoping he wouldn't need them - the darkness punctuated by flashing neon lights made it impossible to make out much detail.

He found the two Lance Corporals entering the club at 9:30pm. Since it was known that Privates Taylor and O'Reilly had been taken via the alley behind the club they had gone to, Xander switched over to the cameras from the alley to find out when the Lance Corporals had left.

He was still working through the footage when Gibbs came back from a coffee run and stopped at Xander's desk. Xander paused the tape to look up at him.

"Boss?"

Gibbs' brow was furrowed. "So what about Angel?"

"What about Angel?" Xander asked.

"There are more than 17,000 people named Angel living in California. Not one of them has a PI's license."

Xander didn't realise that. And really, why hadn't Angel gotten one?

"He specialises in this sort of stuff. Demons don't really ask to see your PI's license," he replied. He hoped that would be enough - he wasn't sure Gibbs was ready for the truth about Angel yet.

"He specialises in demon cases?"

"Pretty much. That's how he had the right sources to hear about the Badinok Spell."

Gibbs grunted and returned to his own desk. Xander returned to the security footage. A short while later he felt Gibbs' stare on him again. He looked up, to find that Gibbs was indeed looking at him.

"Boss?" Xander asked, again.

Gibbs paused a moment.

"Why did Frank say you were a hero?"

Xander didn't know how to answer that. He didn't think of himself as a hero and wasn't keen on anyone else thinking it either. If anything, Buffy was the hero - or Buffy, plus Faith, Willow, and all the new Slayers - but not him. He was the One Who Hung Out With Heroes.

He shook his head. "I don't know exactly what Frank thinks he knows. I knew his cousin back in Sunnydale. Apparently he and Clem write to each other a lot, so Clem had mentioned me in his letters."

Something on the screen caught Xander's eye. He rewound it.

"Boss, I think I have something."

He put it up on the bigger plasma screen to play it again. The video showed a group of five men leaving via the back door of the club - the two Lance Corporals, and three others. The others were all tall and masculine and wearing black hooded sweaters, and Xander and Gibbs watched as the five walked down the alley and out of the camera's view.

"Didn't turn towards the camera once," Gibbs muttered.

"Wait, look here," said Xander. They watched as another person came down the alley towards the club, from the direction they others had disappeared in. He was wearing a dark green jumper and jeans - definitely not part of the group that had just left - but he turned to glance behind him as though he had just passed the others and something about them had bothered him. Eventually he turned back, giving the camera a full view of his face, before heading into the club.

"Looks like he might have heard or seen something," Xander observed. Gibbs was already reaching for the phone on his desk.

"McGee? Get up here."

McGee arrived in the bullpen two minutes later and hurriedly set up a facial recognition scan.

"I don't know if this'll do much good, Boss," he commented. "It's not as though we have photos of everyone in D.C. to compare against."

"Just do it, McGee."

"Yes, Boss."

McGee had a point though, so Xander printed off a copy of the image.

"Uh, Boss? I'll take this down to the club and see if any of the staff recognise him."

Gibbs nodded in approval and Xander left.

* * *

Xander was feeling pretty good a short time later when he called Gibbs.

"Got a name and address, Boss. Apparently he's a regular, the staff know him pretty well. Want me to pick him up?"

"Call DiNozzo and Ziva, have them meet you there," Gibbs ordered. "Then yeah. Bring this guy in for a chat."


	9. Chapter 9

The guy from the video tape sat alone in interrogation. He was an average sort of man - short brown hair, dark slacks and a blue collared shirt. The kind of person who would easily blend into a crowd.

He was nervous, his hands fidgeting under the table, glancing between the door, the one-way mirror and the video camera in the corner.

"Who is he?" Gibbs asked.

"A Mr Andrew White," Xander replied. "Works as an accountant for a property management company."

"He wasn't eager to come," commented Tony. "Tried all sorts of excuses, until his manager came in and gave him the afternoon off especially so he could help us with our enquiries."

"Did you tell him what we wanted to ask him about?"

"Nope. Which makes his behaviour a bit suspicious, don't you think?" Tony grinned.

Gibbs moved to leave the observation room. "Harris. You're sitting in. Come on."

Xander was surprised, and glanced at Tony, who only grinned wider.

"Go on Probie, don't want to keep him waiting."

Xander hurried after Gibbs and soon found himself sitting on a chair on the other side of the glass. Gibbs sat opposite Mr White, whilst Xander was in the corner, observing.

"Mr White?"

"Yes?" asked the man.

"We were hoping you'd be able to help us with a case we are currently investigating," Gibbs began.

"Oh, I don't know anything about any crimes," Mr White replied. "I'm don't think I could be any help at all."

"Were you at a club called The Suite last night?" Gibbs asked.

Xander was watching the man carefully. He noticed something about the guy's hands - which he still appeared to be wringing nervously under the table.

"Yes," the man answered after a moment's hesitation. "That's my regular club. I like the music there." He sounded awkward.

"You went out to the alley at the back of the club at one point, is that right?"

As Xander surreptitiously watched, Mr White gripped one thumb with his opposite hand, and pulled on it nervously.

"I, uh... I went to the convenience store down the street, to buy some smokes, that's all. The alley is the quickest way. The staff have let me use the back entrance for a long time now," he explained defensively.

To Xander's surprise, Mr White's thumb seemed to stretch as he pulled on it. It stretched out to about twice it's normal length before he let go and it popped silently back to normal size.

"Did you see a group of five men leaving the alley just before you returned to the club?" Gibbs asked.

"Uh... five men?" Mr White repeated. "No, no, I didn't see anyone."

Xander watched as the man switched hands and did the same to the other. It was clearly a nervous movement - and just as clearly, not a human one. Mr White obviously didn't realise Xander could see his hands - Xander was sure he was keeping them under the table especially so they wouldn't be seen.

Gibbs turned to look at the mirror behind him and asked for the tape to be played. Mr White watched the screen as the five figures left the club, and then a moment later he saw himself walking down the alley, turning to look behind him, before entering the club.

"Looks to me like you heard or saw something," Gibbs observed drily.

Mr White swallowed. "No, no, I mean, I heard a noise but I thought it was just a cat or something. I didn't see anything."

Gibbs frowned and sent the man a disbelieving stare. He growled the question again, and Mr White denied seeing or hearing anything again.

They weren't getting anywhere. Mr White was afraid to tell them what he knew. Xander softly cleared his throat, and Gibbs glanced over.

"May I?"

Gibbs nodded, and Xander moved to Mr White's side. He leaned over to whisper in his ear.

"You're a demon." There was a small flinch of surprise from Mr White. "So I presume you've heard of the Scourge of Europe, right? You know who Spike and Angelus are?"

Mr White nodded, much to Xander's relief. He had no idea what he would have done if the answer had been no. He whispered again.

"Both of them are in town right now, and they're interested in this very same matter. If you don't want to talk to us, we can always let them," - he paused meaningfully - " _interview_ you."

Mr White paled. "No, no - wait! I'll tell you what I heard, I swear." He seemed to unconsciously shrink in his chair.

Xander breathed a quiet sigh of relief and straightened, indicating that Gibbs could continue with the interrogation. He had no idea whether Mr White would have heard that Spike and Angel weren't exactly the Big Bads anymore. He'd gotten lucky - if Mr White hadn't been afraid of them, Xander would've looked a fool. The teasing from Tony would have been worse than Gibbs' probable rebuke.

Instead, Gibbs was looking slightly impressed, and Xander could only imagine what Tony could be thinking in the next room.

"Let's try this again," Gibbs suggested. "We need to know what you may have heard that group say or do in the alley last night."

"I didn't hear much, really." Mr White was still nervous but begrudgingly speaking now.

"What _did_ you hear?"

"They just said something about going to a place, that was all. I didn't recognise the name."

"Which was?"

"Gitel, Gitoom, something like that. Gitooral?"

"Gitumel?" asked Xander.

"Yeah, Gitumel! I'm sure that was it," agreed Mr White. "Can I go now?"

Gibbs turned to Xander. "What's Gitumel?"

Xander shook his head. "Means 'storage place'. Usually refers to a warehouse or storeroom."

"You're sure that's all you heard?" asked Gibbs, turning back to Mr White. "Why'd you turn back to look at them?"

Mr White shrugged, still clearly uncomfortable. "It just seemed weird. I wondered what they were doing, but then one of them turned to stare at me and I got out of there quick as I could. I don't want anyone coming after me! I'm just an accountant!" he finished pitifully.

Gibbs sighed and sat back in his chair. He glanced at Xander, obviously asking whether Xander thought they needed to keep him. Xander shrugged - he was pretty sure Mr White didn't know anything else.

"Alright, you can go." Gibbs turned to the mirror. "Ziva, could you escort our guest out?"

Mr White looked about, cautiously optimistic. "You're - you're just letting me go?"

"Unless you've done something wrong that you'd like to tell us about?" Gibbs replied. Mr White shook his head fervently. The door opened and Ziva beckoned to him, and Mr White gladly hurried out. Tony appeared in the doorway.

"Wow, Probie," he said, leaning lazily against the doorway. "Looks like you've got the TBI method down pat. You been taking notes?"

Xander was confused. "TBI method?"

"Truth by intimidation. Gibbs' favourite."

"Oh. Uh, yeah, I guess," Xander shrugged. Gibbs had walked out and Tony and Xander followed him back to the bullpen.

"So, come on, spill Probie. What did you say to that guy?" Tony pushed.

Xander was saved from answering by the phone on his desk ringing.

"Harris."

"Agent Harris, it's Colin from Security, we got a guy down here who wants to see you. Says his name's Frank, won't give me a last name."

"Frank is _here_?" Xander couldn't help the surprise in his voice. Gibbs looked up and caught Xander's eye.

"Yeah, should I send him up with an escort?" Colin asked.

"Uh, no," said Xander, thinking quickly. "I'll come down and see him."

Gibbs nodded as Xander hung up, so he headed for the elevator. A minute later he was on the ground floor, approaching the security checkpoint.

"Xander!" Frak called excitedly as Xander reached him. He was wearing a large floppy hat that hid most of his features. "This place is awesome! I bet you have scary interrogation rooms and everything!"

"Hey Frank," Xander laughed. "You've only seen the entrance. It can't be that impressive."

"So you do know this guy?" asked Colin, standing off to the side. "Thought he might have been pulling my leg."

Xander grinned. "Nope, he's for real. Come on, Frank, let's get some fresh air."

They wandered out and headed to the small patch of grass and trees that passed for a 'park' nearby.

"So, why are you here, Frak? You can't have found something out already."

Frak grinned, floppy ears falling forward. "I did actually! You know, I think I was made for undercover work. I could be a demon detective full time - have my own agency, you know? Oh, and I could hire some other demon as my cleaner! You know, I think that would be the best!"

"Wait, wait." Xander put up his hands to placate the demon. "Undercover work? Just how exactly did you go about finding out information?" he asked, concerned.

"Oh, you know, I just put out word that I was looking for a friend of mine who was a marine. Said I hadn't heard from him and wanted to know if anyone had seen him."

Xander had to admit, that was pretty good.

"Didn't your contacts ask for a name?"

"I made one up. Dwayne Hardcastle. Funny name, you know?" Frak laughed as though he'd made an awesome joke.

Xander shook his head but couldn't help smiling. "Alright, so what news did you get?"

"Word was that they hadn't heard of my friend Dwayne - haha - but if my friend was a marine I might be able to find him here."

Frak handed a bit of paper to Xander, who glanced at it before tucking it away in his pocket. It appeared to be an address, but not in English. "Who gave you that?"

"Friend of a friend of a friend - and nobody mentioning who their friend was, you know?"

Xander did know. "Okay. Did you find out anything else?"

"You know, I thought that much was pretty good," Frak answered, mildly offended.

"It was, it was very good," Xander assured him. "Thanks. Now keep your head down, okay? I don't want Clem chasing me up if you get hurt."

"Yeah, I'm just a cleaner, you know? Nobody's gonna bother with me," Frak grinned. "But hey, what you said this morning?" Frak's voice dropped to a whisper, though there was no-one around. "Is it true?"

"About the spell? It looks that way."

Frak shuddered. "I hope your marines are alright."

"Yeah, me too. Thanks Frak."

"See you later Xander!" Frak plastered a cheery grin and waved as he walked away.

Xander pulled the bit of paper out of his pocket and looked at it again. It had been too long since he'd translated ancient languages. He recognised this as Ancient Greek, but he could only make out a few letters - certainly not enough to read the address. Who did he know who could translate this for him right now?

* * *

Xander knocked on the hotel room door, and it swung open.

"Xander," Angel greeted him. He gestured for Xander to enter, and Xander whistled in admiration.

"This is fancy. Being an private eye pays well then?"

"Not really. Apparently Spike 'borrowed' some money from Wolfram & Hart when I was running it. And by 'some' I mean, quite a lot. We live off that now."

The suite was modern and still had that feeling of being new that came with clean carpets and a fresh coat of paint. The furniture was nice too, with very few signs of use. There was a sparkling clean kitchen off the side of the living area, and a hallway on the other side. The heavy curtains were all drawn, as he expected they would be in the middle of the afternoon, with only a few lines of light poking through. The lights were on though, so it wasn't dim.

Spike was spread across the couch, flicking his lighter back and forth. He looked up at them.

"Never thought you'd be glad for my pilfering ways, did you?" he responded to Angel with a cheeky grin. "Come to entertain me, Xander? This place bores me to tears."

"Not unless you find translating ancient languages fun. Any chance either of you know Ancient Greek?" Xander pulled out the paper.

Spike held out his hand. "Give us a look then."

Xander handed it over, and Spike stared at it a minute before shaking his head. "English, Latin, Swahili, Fyarl -and half a dozen other demon languages, but not Greek. Angel? You know it, don't you? And another dozen human languages after that."

Angel looked at the note over Spike's shoulder, but shook his head. "I'm really only a modern languages guy. Was never into the ancient scrolls and prophecies enough to learn the older languages myself."

"Where'd you find it?" Spike asked.

"Clem's cousin Frak lives here in D.C. Did some asking around for me, that's what he got."

"Clem's cousin? Really?" Spike was surprised. "I haven't seen Clem since he skipped out before Sunnydale. Wonder how he's doing."

"He's doing fine, last I heard. He and Frak keep in contact a lot. I could introduce you to Frak if you like," Xander offered.

"Is he anything like Clem?"

"A lot like Clem. Except maybe more excitable."

"On second thought, maybe not then," Spike decided. "So... what is this?"

"An address. One where we might find some marines," Xander replied.

Spike stood up. "Let's go see what the old girl thinks then."

Xander followed Spike down the hallway to one of the bedrooms, Angel close behind. There was an odd girl sitting on the floor with papers spread around, the bed having been pushed aside. She looked up.

"Spike. Good. We should fight again."

Spike groaned. "We already sparred this morning Illyria."

"But I have just read of a new move that the Samurai warriors used." She held up the page in question. "I wish to try it."

"Later," he conceded. "Illyria, this is Xander. Xander, Illyria."

"Er... good to meet you," Xander said. She looked less like a girl the more he looked at her. Her 'outfit', her partially blue hair, the way she spoke - but most especially her eyes were strange. He was glad Spike and Angel had already explained who she was before they'd met.

Illyria stood to face Xander but didn't offer her hand. She observed him a moment.

"Only one eye, and mere human, not even a half-breed like you two. I could break him like a twig."

If Angel's slight discomfort and Spike's easy grin were any indication, this was normal behaviour for Illyria. Xander tried not to be put off by it, but her assertions were certainly blunt and disconcerting.

"Good thing he's not here to spar with you then, love," replied Spike cheerfully.

"But he has something for me."

Xander was surprised at her intuitiveness. "I heard you've been learning different languages and translating them. Wondered if you've come across this one."

Spike passed over the note and Illyria examined it.

"The primitive scribblings of an infant race. There have been a few like this." She grabbed a nearby notepad and pencil, and quickly made some marks, glancing up at the original note. Then tore off the page and handed both notes back.

"From one basic script of man to another. I desire a better challenge next time."

"Uh, thanks," Xander offered, before Angel ushered him out of the room. His cell rang as they reached the living room.

"Harris."

" _Where are you?_ " Gibbs growled.

"On my way back, Boss," he said quickly. The line went dead in typical Gibbs fashion.

"You're like a puppy dog at that guy's feet, aren't you?" Spike laughed.

"Thanks for the translation guys. Gotta go!" Xander replied, not caring that Spike was still laughing and even Angel smiled as he left.

* * *

When Xander arrived back in the bullpen, he only managed a few steps out of the elevator before Gibbs was coming towards him.

"Turn around, Harris."

They went back into the elevator. Gibbs punched the button for the basement, but then hit the emergency stop as soon as the lift moved. He turned angrily.

"Where were you?"

"Frank was here, remember? He got an address for us."

"An address? Why the hell didn't you bring it straight up?"

"Because my Ancient Greek is a little rusty, and I didn't think anyone here would know it either." Xander held out the original note Frak had given him. Gibbs studied it.

"Ancient Greek?"

"Yep."

"You had it translated?"

Xander held out the new version for Gibbs to see.

"That word from earlier, gitoo-"

"Gitumel."

"That Ancient Greek too?"

"No. That was from a demon language."

Gibbs raised a disbelieving eyebrow. "You speak 'demon'?"

Xander couldn't help chuckling. "No. For starters, there are at least as many demon languages as there are human, probably more. Secondly, I only know a few words here and there. We're just lucky gitumel is one I've come across before."

Gibbs leaned back against the wall of the lift, and Xander suspected he was torn between asking Xander for more information about demons, and heading straight back to the bullpen to check out the address in his hand. After a minute, the easier subject won out.

"Where did Frank get the address?"

"He put out word that a marine friend of his was missing. Someone said he might be able to find him there."

Gibbs immediately turned to flick the switch. Whatever else might be going on in his head, the priority was still finding the missing marines. He turned back to Xander as the elevator moved again.

"One more thing, Harris: Never go off on your own like that again. This is a team, we work together. That means you let me know where you're going, got it?"

Xander nodded. "Yes Boss." They left the elevator.

Gibbs handed the address to Tony as they passed his desk.

"DiNozzo, I want to know what's at that address. It's a possible location for our missing men."

Tony immediately started looking it up. "It's a warehouse, Boss. Apparently abandoned over a year ago."

Xander groaned. "Always an abandoned warehouse. Why are so many warehouses allowed to just sit there once abandoned? They should be pulled down as soon as they're empty."

Tony laughed. "You got a problem with abandoned warehouses, Harris?"

"Yes, and no, I'm not telling you why." Xander was feeling a bit grumpy. It was finally getting dark out, but it didn't look like they'd be going home any time soon.

"You know what I _would_ like you to tell, is what you said to that accountant earlier," said Tony. "You had that guy almost wetting himself."

"I wouldn't mind knowing that myself," said Gibbs, with a look that added _which is something we will be discussing later_. "But right now, Harris, you and Ziva are going to check out that warehouse. Don't go in, just observe, see if there's any indications that our men might be there. Got it?"

"Got it Boss."

"I'm driving," Ziva announced cheerfully, whilst Tony griped about being stuck at his desk.

Xander picked up his bag, again. Gibbs' list of 'things we'll be talking about later' was probably reaching epic proportions by now, and he wasn't keen on facing that conversation. The only thing holding Gibbs off was the case, and once that was finished... Xander sighed. By then he'd probably be wishing for these long days of casework again.


	10. Chapter 10

Xander pointed out the windscreen. "That's the one."

"Mm-hmm," Ziva agreed as they drove past. "No obvious activity, but there are lights on. That is unusual for an abandoned building, is it not?"

She continued down the block, then turned and approached the warehouse from a narrow alley, stopping the car as soon as the building was in view. This meant the car was in the shadows of the other buildings around it, set back from the street and not easily visible. There were no streetlights in the alley.

Xander grabbed the binoculars and looked at the building, which was a few hundred feet away. He checked out the windows, before handing the binoculars over to Ziva.

"The lights just went out, but I didn't see any movement. Those windows are too far from the ground. Anyone could walk past and be completely below window level," he said.

"I agree. Plus, now that the lights are off, we won't be able to see much anyway," Ziva replied. "Perhaps if we get closer."

They quietly left the car and crossed the street, keeping a careful eye on the building and the surrounding area. It was deserted. They made it to the fence between the building and the next property. Ziva peered around it.

"No security cameras outside."

She disappeared a moment later, and Xander swore under his breath as he hurried to follow. He pressed himself against the outer wall beside her. Ziva turned to face him.

"Give me a toe up," she whispered, putting her hands on his shoulders.

"It's a 'leg up'," Xander corrected. He obediently cupped his hands.

"Whatever." Ziva was focussed on the window above their heads. "Ready? On three. One, two, three."

It was only as Xander lifted her that he wondered what would happen if Ziva saw some ugly demon inside. Possibly with lots of tentacles. The thought nearly made him drop her.

"Xander!" she hissed. "Stay still!" She peered into the window intently, trying to make out shapes in the darkness.

"What is it?" asked Xander, unable to wait.

She shook her head. "Nothing. This room's empty. Okay, put me down in three, two, one-"

Xander misjudged the drop and Ziva landed on him heavily with an 'oof!'. They both crashed to the ground, Ziva sprawled awkwardly across him.

"You guys don't get much practice at this, huh? Seriously, you're louder than elephants," came an amused English accent.

Ziva was off the ground in an instant, weapon drawn and pointed at the newcomer. Xander was right behind her - until he saw who it was. He relaxed.

"Ziva, you can put it away. Spike, what are you doing here?"

"Same as you, I assume. Seriously sweetheart, put that thing away."

Ziva lowered her gun but didn't put it back in her holster. She stared distrustfully at Spike.

"Xander? Who is this?"

"Spike, an old friend. He works for Angel."

"I work _with_ Angel, thank you very much," Spike corrected.

"Really? Because the card he gave me the other day still said 'Angel' Investigations, not-"

"Oh please," Spike interrupted. "Fancypants didn't want to have new business cards made up, so he refused to change the name, but that doesn't mean anything."

"No," came Angel's objection from the darkness. He and Illyria walked up to join them. "It's because it always was and still is _my_ business. You are unreliable and sometimes disappear for days at a time. Why should I consider you an equal business partner?"

"Well maybe if you _did_ treat me as an equal..." Spike started.

"Excuse me!" hissed Ziva angrily. "This is not the time or place for an argument!"

Both vampires looked suitably chastened.

"We should retire from this position and regroup," stated Illyria. Ziva agreed and motioned for the others to follow her back to the car. Xander, bringing up the rear of the group, saw Spike remove his leather duster and give it to Illyria. She wrapped it around herself and Xander was relieved that Ziva wouldn't get a close look at Illyria's odd 'clothing'.

Back at the car they didn't have to worry about being overheard quite as much, though they still kept their voices down. They stood in a loose group behind the NCIS vehicle.

"So what are you all doing here?" asked Ziva. "Did you get the same intelligence Xander did?"

"Uh, yeah," Angel answered, with a brief glance at Xander. "Our sources must have found the same information."

Ziva looked at the building in question. "That makes it more likely to be the right place then. But I didn't see any signs of life through that window. Not even anything to indicate recent activity."

"Oh, there's been recent activity, no question about that," Spike replied.

"How do you know? We'll have to verify that for ourselves."

"Err... we don't have proof," Angel conceded.

"Then we'll have to go back, and find some," Ziva concluded.

"Won't find any outside the warehouse," Spike assured her.

Angel nodded in agreement. "They've been careful. Not a thing out of place."

"Then we'll go in," she said.

"Which Gibbs ordered us not to do," said Xander.

"There's an easy solution to that," said Spike cheerfully. " _We'll_ go in."

"We cannot allow that," said Ziva, shaking her head. "You are civilians, and this is an NCIS matter. Whoever we are dealing with, they are taking down young, strong marines." She looked Spike up and down. "No offence, but I doubt you would be a challenge for them."

"What, little ol' me?" Spike asked, grinning. "Reckon I could give them a go."

"Spike," Angel warned. Spike shrugged. Angel turned to Xander. "You need this information - this way, you won't be disobeying orders to get it. And you know we are the best at this."

"We won't even breathe loudly," Spike added cheekily.

Xander considered it for a moment, then sighed. "Gibbs is going to kill me," he muttered. "Alright. Observe only. Don't let them know you're there. We need confirmation that the marines are there, and what else we're up against to get them back."

Ziva made a noise of protest but the others ignored her. Angel turned to Illyria.

"You stay here. Spike and I are better at this." Illyria opened her mouth but Angel interrupted before she spoke. "There won't be any fighting."

She paused. "Fine. I will wait here."

"Right then. Let's be off." Spike turned back towards the warehouse.

"Spike," Xander called. Spike turned. "Don't make me regret this."

Spike just grinned and waved as he and Angel disappeared into the shadows.

"Are you insane! Gibbs is going to kill us!" Ziva exploded, somehow managing to keep her volume down despite everything.

Xander shrugged. "Angel was telling the truth, Ziva. I've known them both a long time. They are better at this than we could ever be, and this way we can find out what's inside without going against Gibbs' orders."

"You had better back me up when I tell Gibbs I was against this idea," she fumed. "If your friends screw up..." she pointed a finger at him threateningly.

"I know, I know," Xander held his hands out in a placating gesture.

"A female warrior," said Illyria. Xander and Ziva both turned, having forgotten she was there for a moment. She was observing Ziva, head cocked to one side with interest. "I had begun to wonder if there were any, or if it were the sole domain of men now."

"What?" Ziva asked, confused.

"Nothing," said Xander quickly, trying to cut off the conversation before Illyria said something he couldn't cover for. But Illyria wasn't done.

"You are a warrior, are you not?"

Ziva seemed to consider the question. 'Warrior' wasn't the term people usually used. "Yes," she replied. "I have had many years of training, and believe I am an accomplished fighter."

"We should spar. I should like to test myself against you."

"Uh, sure," Ziva said, surprised.

"Wait," said Xander. "Your comment to me is that you would snap me like a twig, but Ziva you want to test yourself against?"

"In all my time here, I have fought only men. Unless you count Angel's secretary when I first arrived - but she did not put up much of a fight. Perhaps this one will be different."

"Fine, whatever. But not right now," Xander quickly added. "Maybe later."

Ziva nodded, turning to look back towards the warehouse. After a moment, Illyria gave a brief nod also, and Xander sighed in relief.

Ten long, silent minutes later, Xander spotted movement.

"Here they come," he breathed. Ziva frowned, studying the darkness until she saw them a minute later. She glanced at Xander.

"How is it that you could make them out with only one eye, when I couldn't with both of mine?"

Xander shrugged. Angel hurried over to join them, Spike just behind.

"It's definitely the place," Angel said. "Marines, and guards."

* * *

Four people exited the lift into the bullpen. Ziva had insisted that Spike and Angel accompany them back to NCIS, refusing to pass on their eyewitness accounts second-hand. To the relief of the three men, she'd agreed that since Illyria hadn't entered the warehouse, she was free to return to their hotel.

"Whoa, an entourage," Tony commented as they entered the MCRT's area. Gibbs looked up, an eyebrow raised.

"I would like you to know, I was totally against it," Ziva stated, dropping her gear at her desk.

"Against what?" Gibbs asked, frowning at the newcomers.

"Angel and Spike helped us out," Xander answered.

Gibbs' eyes narrowed. "Explain."

Xander stepped up to Gibbs' desk, leaning over so he could speak quietly.

"We can speak much more plainly if we could go somewhere private."

Gibbs looked at him a moment, then glanced at Spike and Angel.

"Fine. Conference room."

For once, Gibbs meant the actual conference room, rather than the lift. Xander led Angel and Spike in, Gibbs following and shutting the door behind them. He remained near the door whilst the other three stood around the table.

"Right. What's going on, Harris?"

"If you don't mind," Spike interrupted, "I'd be much happier if you weren't blocking the doorway."

"And you are?" Gibbs asked, irritated.

"Boss, this is Spike, he works with Angel. Spike, as you've probably guessed this is my boss, Special Agent Gibbs," Xander interjected.

"Planning on going somewhere, _Spike_?"

"No, but I don't like having the exits blocked all the same."

"Spike..." Xander started, but Spike turned to glare at him.

"He's military, Harris!"

Xander sighed. Spike did have pretty good reason to be wary of the military, after all.

"Boss, could you move to this side of the table? Spike won't be leaving the room until we're done here."

"My patience is wearing thin, Harris," Gibbs muttered, but he moved away from the door anyway.

Xander nodded. "Spike and Angel managed to get inside the warehouse," he explained.

Gibbs glared at the two men on the other side of the table. "If you have endangered the lives of those marines by your reckless snooping-"

"Hey!" Spike interrupted. "We went in with your boy's permission, because he knew we could get in and out without detection."

Gibbs turned on Xander. "With your permission?" he asked incredulously. "Did you not listen to what I said earlier? The part about working as a team and not going off on your own?"

Xander tried to stay steady in the face of Gibbs' raw anger, and mostly succeeded. "Boss, there's more going on here than you know," he said tiredly. "Can you please just hear what they have to say?"

Gibbs glared at him a moment longer before turning back to the two vampires. "Make this the best damn report you've ever given to anyone," he growled. Angel stepped up to the table.

"Four marines, with six guards," he reported. "In the basement. We managed to get right in without being noticed. Looks like they're more focussed on keeping the prisoners in, than watching for any attack from outside, which will work to our advantage."

"'Our'?" Gibbs questioned, leaning forward, hands on the conference table. "There is no 'us'. You will not have anything further to do with this investigation, understood?"

Angel met his glare. "With all due respect, you need us. And you can't stop us from being there."

"Watch me," Gibbs growled.

"Angel," Xander interrupted, wanting to break the stand-off that was developing between them. Spike, he noticed, had made himself comfortable in the chair closest to the door and was watching the scene with amusement.

"What?" Angel answered with clenched teeth, still glaring back at Gibbs.

"What were the guards?"

"What?" Angel turned to Xander in surprise.

" _What_ were the guards?" Xander repeated. "If you think NCIS can't handle them, then they weren't human, right?"

Angel glanced at Gibbs briefly. "Felkor."

"Felkor demons," said Xander thoughtfully. "Don't think I've run into those before."

"Oh, you probably have," corrected Spike. "They're everywhere. The thing about Felkor: they looked completely human. No way to tell them apart."

"Then how do you know they aren't human?" asked Gibbs.

"Their bl-" Spike began, but Angel cut him off.

"They smell different," he said quickly.

Gibbs looked between them in anger and astonishment. "They _smell_ different? You really expect me to take your word for it that these people aren't really humans, because you think they _smell_ funny?"

There was a brief silence.

"Er, Xander? Care to take this one?" Angel asked.

Xander knew why he was asking. Obviously by now it was clear that Gibbs knew something about demons, but they wouldn't have any idea how much he knew. Angel didn't want to risk putting his foot in it.

Gibbs was now looking impatiently at Xander.

"Come on Harris! So far, I've not seen any evidence that there's anything unusual about this case, except what you and your friends here have told me. I'm starting to wonder if this is just some big joke," he barked.

"That's not true," Xander protested. "What about Frank?"

"Another friend of yours I'd never heard of before this case. Albeit one with a serious skin problem," he added. Spike snorted.

"That accountant we interviewed this morning. He was a demon."

"So you say! I still don't know what you said to that guy to make him so scared, Harris, but him feeling threatened doesn't make him a demon!"

"Alright," Xander conceded. "You want to know why we should trust Angel and Spike to judge things with their noses? It goes back to what I said the other day, about how some demons can pass for human."

"And?"

"And..." There was no easy way to say it, was there? "There's only two humans in this room right now, Boss."

Gibbs stopped, then turned to stare at Angel and Spike. Angel stood tall, arms crossed and face serious. Spike, on the other hand, leaned back lazily in his chair, giving Gibbs a grin and brief wave.

"You're demons," he stated eventually.

"Yes," confirmed Angel.

"Though, if you asked Illyria she'd sniff and say we're only half-breeds," commented Spike. Angel glared at him.

"Prove it," Gibbs ordered.

"Ooh, I'll do it!" said Spike, suddenly excited. He sat up. "I'll show him my game face!"

"No!" Xander pounced before Spike could act. Telling Gibbs they were demons was one thing, but telling him they were _vampires_? That could be a whole different thing. Xander wanted to keep it at step one if they could. "Just... pick up something heavy, or something like that."

Spike pouted. "Can't I at least hit something? The wall? The table? What about Angel, can I hit Angel?"

"Spike, there's no need for violence," said Angel in exasperation. Spike slumped back into his chair, muttering about never being allowed to have any fun. Angel turned back to Gibbs. "Compared to humans, we have enhanced senses. Sight, hearing, smell. We're also stronger and have faster reflexes. So, you and Xander go into that corner," he motioned to the one furthest from him, "And I'll stand over here. One of you whisper something to the other that I shouldn't be able to hear."

Xander was surprised and grateful at Angel's sensible handling of the matter. He couldn't help but wonder how much a vampire could mature emotionally when they were already well into their third century of life -or unlife, or whatever they called it. But Angel certainly appeared to have matured since they'd known each other in Sunnydale.

"This has to be the most elaborate and infuriating practical joke anyone has ever set up, Harris," Gibbs muttered softly, right into Xander's ear. Spike burst out laughing and even Angel had trouble keeping a straight face as he repeated the sentence back from across the room. Angel then had Gibbs hold his business card up, and he read it out word-for-word from the opposite wall.

"Not sure there's any way to prove that our sense of smell is strong and accurate, I'm afraid," said Angel.

"Well, we could mention that he reeks of coffee and sawdust, but I think even the humans could pick that up," Spike grinned. "Can we show off our strength now?"

"Have you worked out a non-violent method?" Xander asked.

"He can arm wrestle me," Spike said smugly. "It's not a real demonstration of what we can do, but it's better than nothing. If he's game."

Gibbs silently took the seat next to Spike and held out his hand, elbow resting on the table.

"Right then." Spike sat up and gripped Gibbs' hand. Xander hovered nervously, but Spike seemed happy to behave appropriately now. He slowly pushed the other man's arm back until his hand touched the table, making it look easy whilst also giving Gibbs plenty of opportunity to fight back.

"That's hardly a comprehensive show, but it'll do for now," Spike shrugged.

"Do you believe us?" asked Angel.

Gibbs stood up, shaking his arm out a little. "I believe you have extremely good senses, and I believe what you say you saw in the warehouse. But you're still going not going to have anything further to do with this investigation."

Angel shook his head. "I don't think you understand. This is not something you can handle with a couple of people armed with guns."

"This is my investigation, and these are our marines! I will not be told by just anyone who walks in off the street, how I should go about securing their release!"

"You will get your men killed!" Angel retorted.

"Just you watch and see if that happens," Gibbs said with finality. Angel threw up his hands and paced away in exasperation.

"Xander, maybe you need to have a word with your boss," Spike suggested.

"Actually, I agree with him," Xander replied.

"What!" cried Angel.

"You can't be serious!" Spike exclaimed.

"I mean it. Think about it. We still don't know who's behind this. If you two go in there, and get caught, they could use _you_ in the Badinok Spell. You can't tell me that won't be worse," Xander reasoned.

"You don't think we could take on six Felkor?" asked Spike, offended. "I mean, yeah, they're strong and mean buggers, but Angel and I have won against much worse odds!"

"Look," said Xander, trying to be patient. "If this was a bar brawl, my money would be on you, sure. But it's not. We can't risk you getting caught."

"He's right," Angel admitted.

"What, so you take a team of sodding humans in, and all of you get taken or killed," said Spike bitterly. "Yeah, that sounds better."

"Of course not. There's another way."

Gibbs looked at Xander expectantly. "Which is?"

"I call the Council."

"No way!" cried Spike.

"That is so not fair," Angel muttered.

"Once a Scooby, always a Scooby," Spike moaned. "Bloody typical."

"What's to stop them from getting captured as easily as me or Spike?" Angel demanded.

"Numbers," Xander replied. "They can bring a team out."

"I still say we can do it without them," Spike argued.

"Someone planning to explain who or what the Council is?" Gibbs interrupted.

"Sorry Boss," Xander replied. "The Council-"

"Wait, someone's coming," Angel interrupted, turning his head towards the door. He sniffed. "It's Ziva."

They all paused, and a moment later there was a polite knock at the door.

"Yeah?" Gibbs called.

The door opened, and Ziva stuck her head in. "Sorry to interrupt."

Gibbs waved it away. "What's up?"

"There's some people here looking for Xander. Said they were from the ISWC."

"The what?" asked Gibbs.

"The Council," answered Xander.


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was definitely the hardest chapter to write so far, since there's lots of characters wanting to do lots of talking.

Ziva stood at the door, indicating for the newcomers to enter the room.

"Xander!" Willow crossed the room in seconds and threw her arms around Xander's neck. Her weight caused him to step back awkwardly to keep his balance, and he felt Gibbs place a steadying hand on his shoulder.

"Hi Will. Missed you too." Xander couldn't help grinning at her enthusiasm. Over her shoulder he saw Buffy and Giles enter. After glancing at Gibbs, Ziva left, shutting the door behind her.

Willow pulled back. "You are in big trouble mister! You haven't called me in ages!" She glanced around, eyes widening as she noticed who else was in the room. "We will talk about this later," she warned him.

"Angel, Spike," Buffy greeted evenly. "I wasn't expecting to see you two here."

"Buffy," Angel returned.

"Weren't expecting to see you either, love," agreed Spike. "Unless Xander already called you, and that argument we just had was all for show."

"No, I didn't call them," Xander said.

"So I'm the only one here who needs to be introduced, I take it?" Gibbs asked.

"Sorry Boss." Xander straightened. "Guys, this is my boss, Special Agent Gibbs. Boss, meet the Scoobies." As he'd hoped, he saw a look of understanding flick across Gibbs' face as he made the connection.

"Hey, I was a Scooby too," Spike protested.

"I would rather you introduced us as the ISWC, Xander," Giles admonished. He held out his hand to Gibbs. "Rupert Giles. This is Buffy Summers, and Willow Rosenberg."

Gibbs shook it, and acknowledged the women. "And the ISWC is?"

"The leading international authority on demons and supernatural matters," Xander answered. He noted the brief look of surprise on the others' faces. "He already knows, guys. Well, some stuff, anyway."

"Well, that will make things easier," Giles commented.

"So, uh, what's going on here?" Buffy finally asked, addressing her question to the two vampires as much as Xander and Gibbs.

"You don't know?" asked Angel.

"You guys turn up out of the blue, at this particular moment, and have no idea what's going on?" Spike chuckled. "The Powers have gotta be messing with us again."

"If Harris didn't call you, and you're not here for the same reason as these two, why are you here?" Gibbs asked.

"Willow and her team detected higher numbers of demons than usual in the area, and an increase in magical activity that seemed to correspond with it. We came to check it out," Buffy explained. "Since we knew Xander was living here, we thought we'd check in with him first, see if he knew what was up. He wasn't at home, so we came looking here."

"And now I'm guessing something's definitely, uh, 'up'?" Willow asked.

"Yeah, the Faligata Prophecy, that's what," said Spike.

"The what?"

Spike turned to Angel, grinning. "Guess we weren't the last to hear about it after all."

Angel shook his head. "This is going to take a while. Maybe we should sit?" He indicated the long table they were standing around, and everyone moved to seat themselves. Gibbs, Xander, Angel and Spike ended up opposite the three Council representatives. Angel took the lead in explaining what the prophecy was, and then about the Badinok Spell that had led them to NCIS.

Buffy shook her head. "Giles, why hadn't we heard about any of this? How can we not have known about one of the - apparently - most well-known prophecies ever?"

"Our resources are still being built back up, Buffy, you know that," Giles sighed. "Most of what the old Council had was utterly destroyed. I suspect it will take several decades to have a proper collection again. Now, if you'll excuse me a moment, I need to make a call." He stood and let himself out of the room.

"What I don't understand is, why didn't you call us Xander?" asked Willow, sounding a bit hurt.

Xander had been afraid of that question. He shrugged awkwardly. "I wanted to know what we were facing first. Maybe it would have been something we could handle."

"In his defence, Xander was arguing that we should call you guys, just before you arrived," Spike offered.

"What's important is that we're here now," Buffy concluded. "We can find out who the big bad is, and see what can be done about getting those marines back for you." Behind her, Giles re-entered the room and took his seat again.

"Hold on," Gibbs interrupted. "Why does everyone walk in here and assume they can take over my case? These are our marines, and I am in charge of this investigation."

"Actually, we have an agreement with your government allowing us to take control of any matter we need to," Giles informed them.

"Oh?" Gibbs asked, eyebrow raised. "And so, just like that, I should hand the lives of these men over to some stuffy Englishman from an organisation I've never heard of?"

"Well, not me, actually," Giles replied. "Officially, I'm head of the organisation, but that's mostly an administrative position. You'd be handing the reins over to our primary field leader."

"And that would be?"

"Buffy," Giles said, nodding to the petite blonde beside him.

Gibbs stared for a moment. "You must be joking. You want me to trust these men's lives to a young woman who can barely have completed a basic training course?"

"I can assure you, she is more than capable," Giles replied.

Gibbs was about to respond again when his cell rang.

"Yeah, Gibbs," he answered. He stood up and moved to the end of the room. There were various 'yes sir's and 'understood' but for the most part Gibbs just listened.

Xander leaned across the table.

"Look, Gibbs and his team - my team - we are the best of the best here, Buffy."

She nodded. "Dawn said you're happy, Xander, and I'm glad for you. We all are."

"That's not what I meant," Xander replied. "I mean, if it's at all possible, things will be much better for everyone if you include us in your plans."

Buffy frowned. "I don't know Xander..."

Gibbs hung up his cell. "That was Vance," he told Xander. "We're to hand over full control of this case to the ISWC. And you have been nominated as the liaison between the two agencies." He scowled at the other side of the table.

"Agent Gibbs, I can understand your doubts," Buffy said. "But I can assure you, I have been doing this for more than a decade, and the team we brought with us are the best I've got. We will get your men back."

"You did bring a team? Where are they?" asked Xander, relieved.

"At our hotel of course," Willow smiled. "There was no need to drag them all over town looking for you."

"Ok, we might as well get down to business," said Giles. "Ah, Angel, you and Spike actually entered the building where these marines are being held?"

"Yeah," Angel confirmed. "A couple of hours ago. There were four marines and six guards."

"That doesn't make any sense," Gibbs objected. "We know of at least thirteen marines that have gone missing."

"Willow, Giles. What do you guys know about a Badinok Spell?" asked Spike.

Willow shook her head; she didn't know of it.

"Not much," answered Giles. "I've heard of it but I've never encountered someone trying to do it."

"Well, here's the thing," Spike said. "It's effects are only temporary. It was really only designed to give a short burst of extra strength and health to the target."

"Oh dear," said Giles, worried.

"How long ago did marines start going missing?" Willow asked seriously. She pulled out a fancy-looking PDA and starting tapping on the screen.

"Seven weeks," Xander answered.

"Seven... hmm," she mumbled. "And there's been more recently?"

"Yeah," he agreed. "The first three marines were taken a week apart, then two per week for the next three weeks. This week they've taken four, including two at once."

"Here it is," Willow said. She read the screen in silence for a moment. "Okay, the spell only lasts seven days at most. So whoever it is, they've had to renew the spell weekly."

"And what happens to the marines that have been 'used' in the spell?" asked Gibbs, his voice low.

There was an uncomfortable silence.

"I don't believe they would survive the process," Giles answered eventually.

Gibbs slammed his fist angrily against the table as he rose from his seat. Nobody flinched. "Then why the hell are we sitting here talking? We should be getting those four out while we still have the chance!" He walked down to the window, and began to pour himself a cup of the horrid coffee they kept down there. Xander guessed it was out of frustration and a need to do _something_ more than because he actually wanted to drink it.

"I think we have a bit of time actually," Willow said timidly. Xander gave her an encouraging smile, which she gratefully returned. "The spell is most effective if done at each quarter moon phase. If whoever's doing this knows his stuff, then the next spell will be in two days' time."

"Alright," Buffy interrupted decisively. "There are two important things here: finding out who's behind it, and rescuing the marines. How sure are we that the spell won't be done again for another two days?"

"I think we can be pretty certain," Giles answered. "This is a rare and somewhat difficult spell. This person clearly knows what they are doing, so we can assume they would know the best time to do it."

"Good," Buffy said. "And if this guy is using these marines for their health and strength, we can assume they're being looked after right? That means we have two days to rescue them. So we focus on finding out who's behind this first, and rescue the prisoners second. Willow, can you track down who's doing the spell?"

"Uh, maybe not who," she replied. "An unusual spell like this would leave ripples though -I could probably track down _where_ it was done. It'll take a few hours though."

Buffy nodded. "Where is still a good place to start. And it's," she checked the time, "really late, especially for those not used to working vampire hours. So, here's the deal: We all go our separate ways. Willow can work on finding out what she can, while the rest of us get some shut-eye."

Xander nodded gratefully - he hadn't had much sleep last night, and this had been a very long day indeed. He was looking forward to as much sleep as possible. Everyone began to stand.

"You _are_ planning to contact us when you find out anything, I presume?" asked Gibbs with a hint of sarcasm.

"Absolutely," Buffy agreed.

"You know D.C. better than we do," added Giles. "It would be foolish not to use your local knowledge."

"And us?" asked Spike. "We did all the sodding groundwork here." Behind him, Angel crossed his arms and frowned at Buffy.

She considered them for a moment. "We'll see."

Gibbs reached the door first since he'd already been standing, and walked out leaving the door open.

"Xander, what do you reckon? I think Angel and I have earned our places in this party," Spike said, trying to gather support.

"I don't know," he answered. "Buffy sure did better facing my boss than Angel did the first time."

"What?" Angel's jaw dropped. "That is not true!"

Xander smirked. "Sure it is. I saw you - all fidgeting and nervous."

"I was not nervous, I was... uncomfortable," Angel admitted. "It was awkward. I wanted to warn him that more marines would be taken but I didn't think through the part where I couldn't say why."

"Still looked like nervousness to me," Xander replied, taking any opportunity to harass the older vampire.

"Spike, tell him. You know I fidget when I'm uncomfortable."

Spike raised his eyebrows. "What, you expect _me_ to back you up?"

Angel glared at him.

"Oh all right," Spike conceded. "It's true. Takes a lot to get ol' Angel nervous, but awkward is practically his normal state."

Angel rolled his eyes, and Xander shrugged, dropping the topic. He headed out to the bullpen to grab his gear. He was surprised to realise Ziva and Tony were still there, and apparently Gibbs was thinking along the same lines.

"Go home," he was saying as Xander walked in. "Don't be in before ten hundred hours tomorrow."

"Uh Boss?" Tony asked.

"Yeah, DiNozzo?"

"What, I mean who, or uh, aren't you going to fill us in?" he managed. Tony was completely confused and didn't seem to know what the right question was.

Gibbs stood up, frustration evident on his face. "The ISWC has jurisdiction, so it's their case now. We may or may not be asked to assist them further."

Tony and Ziva both stopped in surprise.

"They've taken our case? How can they have jurisdiction over abducted US Marines?" asked Tony in shock.

"And what _is_ the ISWC? I have never heard of it before," said Ziva.

"Neither had I," Gibbs replied. "But that doesn't make any difference. That's how it is."

The conversation paused as the three Council reps made their way past to the elevator, followed by Angel and Spike. The two groups eyed each other with interest: Tony and Ziva wanting to know who the strangers were, and the Scoobies looking for a glimpse into Xander's new life.

Once the lift had taken them away, Ziva turned back.

"I think there is much you haven't told us. I don't understand why Tony and I are being kept in the shade."

"In the dark," Tony corrected. "But yeah, I'd like to know too."

"It's need to know," Gibbs answered.

"But Xander gets to know?" Ziva prompted.

"I was uh, 'read in' a long time ago," Xander replied. "That's why they nominated me as their liaison."

"Yeah." Gibbs grabbed his bag and left the bullpen. "Y'all waiting for a written invitation?"

They grabbed their gear and hurried after him.

In the car park, Gibbs hung back and indicated for Xander to wait with him. Tony and Ziva said goodnight and headed for their cars. Xander groaned inwardly. An interrogation on his friends, now?

Thankfully, Gibbs seemed to read his mind.

"Most of it can wait until all this is over, Harris."

He nodded. "Sure, Boss. What do you want to know?"

"Buffy."

Xander grinned. "Buffy's the best. You won't find anyone better at fighting demons. Giles was telling the truth. She's more than enough for whatever we're facing."

Gibbs raised an eyebrow. "She can't be any older than you."

"She's not."

Xander could have explained more, but he wasn't in the mood for an in-depth conversation right now. Confirming or denying Gibbs' thoughts was enough.

Gibbs was studying him, apparently deciding whether to push further or not.

"Get some sleep, Harris," he said eventually.

"No argument there, Boss," Xander agreed, heading for his car.

But when he got to his car, Willow was waiting.

"Hey Xander."

"Hey Will." Despite his tiredness, it was good to see her again. "How did you know which car was mine? Some clever spell up your sleeve?"

"Er, no," she smiled. "I asked Spike, he said this one smelled like you."

"Huh."

"Anyway," Willow went on. "I just hadn't seen you in so long and I wanted to say sorry because it's not entirely your fault that we haven't had much contact, I mean, I know it's partially my fault because I didn't call you either. Or write. Or visit. But Giles and Dawn have been keeping us all up to date when you write to them so we kinda knew what was going on with you and stuff, and it sounds like you're happy here which is great, it really is-"

"Willow!" Xander laughed. "I get it, really."

She smiled. "Sorry."

"It's fine," he grinned. "I've missed you too. How about you guys stick around a few days after all this is over? We can catch up on everything then."

"Oh that'd be great! And we can have junk food and a movie marathon, just like in high school!"

"Sure, so long as it doesn't involve undead party crashers," Xander laughed again. "But right now I really need to get home and sleep."

"Oh of course!" Willow enveloped Xander in a hug, but was interrupted when Xander yelped suddenly. He rubbed his arm.

"Sorry, totally forgot I was stabbed a few days ago." A few days ago? It seemed more like a few years.

"Oh my god, are you okay?"

"It's fine, just a few stitches." He gave her a one-armed hug. "I'll see you tomorrow Will."

"Alright. Night Xander." She walked away towards the far end of the carpark, and Xander was finally able to go home.


	12. Chapter 12

The agreement had been made that two members of each party could be present to check out the location, so it was Buffy, Vi, Angel and Spike that met Gibbs and Xander in the underground car park the next day. Willow was sleeping after being up most of the night doing the locator spell, and Giles and Buffy had agreed that she should take a slayer as her second, just in case. They were at a tall office building, with various floors and offices leased out to different companies, and a few currently empty.

"Including the one we want," Vi noted, checking the building directory next to the elevator. Xander couldn't believe how much she'd grown up in just a few years. She was definitely a woman now, strong, lithe and confident. DiNozzo would no doubt hit on her as soon as he saw her.

Xander wasn't really sure why Buffy had allowed the two vampires along though; maybe they'd talked further after the meeting last night. He also wasn't sure why the decision pleased him so much, but it did. It helped that they provided a distraction for both Gibbs and Buffy, preventing the two from butting heads too much, and subsequently saving Xander from having to step in to 'liaise' between them.

Buffy led the group into the elevator, still frowning at Xander. As he'd expected, she'd stomped up to him on arrival and demanded to know how he'd been hurt and why he wasn't off work whilst injured. Gibbs had butted in immediately and told her that no agent of his would be allowed in the field unless he was fit and capable. Xander had reassured her that it wasn't serious. He was keeping his arm supported with a bandage but wasn't needing painkillers any more, and had full range of movement. Buffy had still been unimpressed, however.

The tension in the elevator rose as it did. Xander wondered what would be waiting when the doors opened. Buffy and Angel had taken up positions either side of the door, ready to react should something jump out at them. The elevator slowed, and with a ding, opened onto a quiet pastel hallway. There was a unintended sigh of relief from everyone but Gibbs.

"Are we planning to stand around in here all day?" he asked drily.

They moved out. Nobody said anything, but they quickly fell into a line: Buffy and Vi up front, followed by Angel, then Gibbs and Xander, with Spike bringing up the rear. It was a little too neat to be random, Xander thought. Thankfully, Gibbs didn't seem to mind letting the others take the lead, although he was observing them closely.

At first, the entire floor seemed to be empty. The offices, a few still with desks or an abandoned fake plant, were clean and quiet. They worked their way down the hall, checking each room. About halfway, Buffy held up a hand and they all stopped. She tilted her head and looked questioningly at Vi, who nodded.

"What is it?" hissed Gibbs.

"Someone's singing," Angel murmured to them.

Gibbs tilted his head and Xander saw his arm relax from his holster. "I can't hear anything," he muttered after a moment.

"Neither can I," Xander said quietly.

"They're down the far end," observed Vi. "And they seem very... happy."

"Happy?" Xander asked.

"You'll see," she smiled.

They continued down the hall as before, checking the rooms on each side but having a goal in mind now. Two-thirds of the way down, Xander finally heard it, and from the slight change in Gibbs' body language, he did too. Someone was indeed singing, loudly and with abandon. There was also a loud constant humming, like a vacuum cleaner.

"The Bee Gees?" Gibbs muttered.

Xander nodded. It was _Stayin' Alive_ , to be precise. As they got closer, there was a pause, then the singer started again. Xander soon recognised it as _You Should Be Dancing_. The voice sounded familiar...

They cleared the last rooms and had only the final room at the end of the hall remaining. Buffy signalled for everyone to stay out of sight. She stuck her head around the door, then rolled her eyes and strode into the room. Vi took her place, watching around the doorway.

The singing suddenly stopped, along with the humming.

"Hey!" the singer objected, and Xander finally realised who it was. He pushed past Vi.

"Who are you?" Buffy demanded.

Buffy was facing Frak, hands on her hips. She'd gotten his attention by pulling his headphones off. The large room was empty except for the demon, his vacuum cleaner, and a trolley cart of cleaning supplies.

"Buffy," Xander said, vaguely aware that everyone else had followed him into the room. She turned, annoyed.

"Xander! What are you-"

"Buffy," he interrupted her. "This is Frak. He's Clem's cousin."

"Buffy?" asked Frak. " _The_ Buffy? Oh my god! You know, you are my absolute hero! Or should it be, you know, heroine? Do you prefer the proper term, or is 'hero' okay? I don't mind, you know, whichever you prefer." Frak had clasped Buffy's surprised hand and shook it excitedly.

"Uh, not keen on 'hero' at all, actually," Buffy replied, slightly stunned.

"Right, 'heroine' then," Frak agreed amiably, completely missing her point.

Buffy looked back at Xander, asking for help. Xander figured he could safely take over here.

"Everyone, this is Frak. He's a cleaner."

"The cousin that Clem wrote to, that knows all about us?" asked Spike.

"The same one," Xander confirmed.

Frak was looking at Spike now. "Wait, you have an accent." He took in Spike's hair and clothing. "Oh. My. God. You're Spike right? Right? You know, I'm so grateful to you, you helped Clem out and all when he didn't have anyone else in back in Sunnydale, you were always a good friend to him, you know? If I can ever return the favour-"

"Yeah, that's great mate," Spike tried to retrieve the hand Frak had now grabbed and shaken.

"Frak," Xander interrupted. The demon certainly meant well, but when he started talking it could take forever for him to finish. "Frak, you've been hired to clean this place, right?"

"Yeah, new job. It's good, you know, because this one is during the day, since the offices are currently for empty, so I can fit it in around my other places, you know?"

"Yeah, that's good. Listen, what was here when you arrived?" The room was pretty much spotless. Frak must have been just about done.

"Oh, you know," Frak replied casually. "Rubbish and stuff. Chalk marks. Some other powdery stuff - like ashes from incense, you know?"

"Okay, these chalk marks," said Buffy, taking the lead again. "What did they look like?"

"There was a big circle here, with a triangle in it," Frak spread his arms to illustrate. "The triangle had two extra lines in it, all joining up to the one point there."

"One line for each marine," Xander observed.

"And there were some extra symbols at the point where all the lines met," Frak continued.

"Where the person would stand at the apex of the triangle," Spike concluded.

"What's that stain?" asked Gibbs, looking at his feet. There were a number of dark blotches in the grey/blue carpet.

"I think it's red wine," said Frak. "Couldn't get it out, you know? They left it too long before calling me in."

"It's blood," Spike replied.

"You sure?" asked Gibbs.

"There's no doubt," said Angel. "It's definitely blood."

"Willow got the right place then," Buffy concluded. She turned back to Frak. "So, who's your boss?"

"Boss?" he answered. "You know, I don't actually have a boss - self-employed, you know, contractor and all that."

"Frak," Xander said. "Who hired you to clean this place?"

Frak paused, finally seeming to catch up and realise what was going on. "Wait, you don't think this is where _it_ was done, do you?" He was horrified. "No way, it can't be, you know? No, no, he wouldn't do that!"

Buffy grabbed Frak by his collar and pushed him back against the wall. "Who, Frak! Who hired you?"

"Buffy!" Xander cried, grateful that Vi and Spike also protested at the same time. But she hadn't pushed Frak hard, just enough to jolt him into focussing.

He gulped. "Oliver Fox."

"Oliver Fox?" Xander asked in surprise.

"That can't be right," Gibbs muttered.

Buffy finally let go of Frak, who stayed against the wall. "Who's Oliver Fox?"

"Senator Oliver Fox," Xander answered. "One of the youngest ever voted in. He's been in the papers a lot lately."

"You can't honestly expect me to believe that Fox is a demon," Gibbs stated.

"Oh, no, he's not, you know," replied Frak. "At least, I didn't think he was..." he finished uncertainly.

"So he's just a sorcerer then," Vi concluded. "Plenty of humans practise magic."

"Actually, that makes sense," Angel said. "He has Felkor guards at his disposal, which are even stronger than humans, but he didn't use them in the spell. Instead, he used them to capture the marines."

"Of course," groaned Spike. "A soddin' purist. Wouldn't want to dirty his blood with demon essence, now, would he?"

"Right, so we know the who and where. Any chance we can rescue the hostages yet?" Gibbs asked, sarcasm plain.

"Sure," Buffy replied cheerfully. "We'll need somewhere to work out the plan. Mind if we use your place?"

* * *

"So, the Scoobies and the Council are the same thing?" Gibbs asked. He was driving them back to NCIS with his usual disrespect for the road rules.

"Um, sort of. Giles, Willow and Buffy are part of the Scooby Gang. There were a few others, but the four of us were the originals."

"And what exactly is the Scooby Gang?" Gibbs prompted.

"You know, from the cartoon, Scooby-Do? They drove around in a mini-van, solving mysteries?"

Gibbs sent him a brief look.

"Well okay, we didn't have a mini-van," Xander amended.

"So how did they end up an international agency, and you ended up with us?"

Xander chuckled. "That's a long story."

"Shorten it."

"The old council had been around for hundreds of years - some say longer. Most of it was destroyed in a bombing a few years ago. We put back together what we could, updated it's policies and turned it into what it is now, but it wasn't the place for me. So I left them to it and came back to the States."

Gibbs thought for a moment.

"You just went in and took over what was left of a foreign council?"

"Technically, Buffy and Giles were already members. After the bombing, there weren't many others left, so they just stepped up."

Gibbs grunted. They turned a corner at a speed Xander was pretty sure was twice the limit. He leaned against the door heavily til the road straightened out in front of them again.

"So why Buffy Summers?" Gibbs asked.

"Why Buffy what?"

"You, and Summers, and... Rosenberg, was it? You were all involved, but Summers is in charge?"

"Yeah, Buffy's special, but..." he sighed. "That is a story I really can't shorten."

"She's human though?"

"Oh yeah, no doubts there," Xander assured him. "And she really is the best person for the job. I know you don't like it, and I'm sure you won't agree with everything she-"

"I got it, Harris. You're saying I should trust her."

Xander nodded. "Yeah Boss."

Gibbs just grunted, but Xander took that as a good sign.

* * *

"Gibbs!" Ziva jumped up as he and Xander arrived back in the bullpen. "I found-"

"Not now, Ziva. DiNozzo, our friends from the Council will be here any moment, please show them to the conference room when they arrive."

"Friends?" Tony inquired. "So we're working with them?"

"Yep."

"But Boss-"

"No buts Tony. I need coffee before this meeting starts," he grumbled. He started to walk away, but Ziva blocked his path.

"Gibbs," she said patiently, like talking to a child. "This is very important."

He stopped, though his look told Ziva she should be quick.

"Two more marines were taken last night," she said. "They went with a group of friends, but got separated at some point."

Gibbs looked over her shoulder at Xander.

"They must have taken them after we were there. We'll get them back," Xander said, feeling pretty confident.

"We're going in? When?" Tony asked.

"Tonight," Xander answered, at the same time that Gibbs said "Today."

Gibbs raised an eyebrow at Xander. "We're waiting until tonight?"

Xander nodded. "I assume so."

"Wouldn't it be easier in the day time?" Ziva asked. "In a place that they know and we do not, the darkness will put us at a disadvantage."

Xander shrugged. "It's not up to us."

The elevator dinged and they turned to see the people who would be making the decision. Buffy and Willow emerged, followed by Vi, Giles and the two vampires. Gibbs walked off to get his coffee, whilst Tony led the group off to the conference room. As Xander had expected, Tony's eyes were glued to Vi, who giggled. He rolled his eyes.

"Coming, Xander?" asked Spike as they passed.

"Be there in a minute," he replied.

Ziva crossed to his desk, where he'd dumped his stuff and was quickly checking his email.

"You know them well, no?"

He glanced up at her. "Yeah, I do."

"All of them?"

"Most of them."

"Especially the girl Willow? I saw how she ran up to you last night."

He laughed. "Willow and I have known each other since kindergarten, but we've been apart for a couple of years now. I've missed her."

"Why not? Did they not want you to be part-"

"Ziva!" Xander interrupted. "Stop fishing."

She frowned. "Fishing?"

"You're fishing for information. I can't tell you about the Council, okay?"

"Hey, who was the new girl?" asked DiNozzo, arriving back in the bullpen. "She's sure something..."

"That would be Violet, and I'd be careful, Tony. She could take you down without raising a sweat," Xander grinned. "Plus, Buffy tends to be a bit over-protective of her girls."

"Her girls?" asked Ziva.

Xander rolled his eyes and stood up as Gibbs walked through.

"Come on Harris," he said gruffly.

"Not us Boss?" asked Tony.

"You've got other things to work on, DiNozzo," Gibbs replied as he walked away.

"Got it Boss."

Xander followed Gibbs into the conference room and closed the door behind them, with a suspicion that he knew what 'other things' Gibbs might have Tony working on. Buffy stood at the head of the table with papers spread around, one of which appeared to be a floor plan of the warehouse.

"Right, if everyone's here," she said, taking charge. "This is the plan of the warehouse that was submitted at the time of construction a decade ago. Angel and Spike have marked what they saw when they were there last night."

"There are stacks of pallets along here," Angel said, pointing at the page. "Including blocking access to this hallway, but it wouldn't be hard to get through there if we needed to. We just couldn't do it quietly."

Buffy shook her head. "We shouldn't need to. Now, Agent Gibbs, we can do this with or without you, but if you and your people are willing to follow my orders and-"

"I am," Gibbs cut her off.

Buffy was thrown for a moment, having obviously expected more opposition, but she recovered quickly. "Good. The extra numbers will help. Here's how it's going to work: We'll take two Slayer teams and one NCIS team."

"Slayer?" Gibbs asked.

"A discussion for another day, Boss," Xander answered. Gibbs looked questioningly at Xander, then grunted and nodded at Buffy to continue.

"Willow and Giles will stay outside. When Willow confirms that any magical wards or defences are down-"

"Don't think there are any, love," Spike interrupted. "We got in and out last night without any trouble and without tripping any alarms."

"We don't take any chances," Buffy replied firmly. "We will wait for Willow's word. We'll send two Slayers ahead as scouts. Once they return, Vi will lead one team through the rear entrance, and I'll take the other through the front. If the guards are still here where Angel and Spike saw them," she indicated the place on the plans, "Then Vi, you take your team through this way. My team will go up here and we'll pin them between us."

"Where will we be?" asked Gibbs.

"Your team will wait until we're in. Willow will be co-ordinating; she'll tell you when it's clear. The captives are being held down here," she pointed out the right place on the plans again. "If you come through this way, there's access to the basement level here. It'll be up to you to get your men out while we deal with the guards."

Gibbs nodded, studying the plans. "Two more marines were taken last night, so we're probably looking at six men we need to break out."

"Uh, Xander?" said Willow. "We weren't sure what team you'd want to be with."

Xander frowned. "My team, of course. NCIS," he added, for clarification. He sensed, rather than saw, Gibbs' approval, though that wasn't the reason for his choice. As far as he was concerned, there hadn't been a choice to make.

"Okay," Willow said, looking relieved. "That's good. That'll make communication easier."

Xander groaned as he realised she would be using magic, not electronic earpieces, to keep in touch.

"Oh come on Xander," she teased, smiling now. "It's not that bad."

"What's the problem?" asked Gibbs.

Xander shook his head, unable to help smiling back at Willow. "No problem Boss."

"What about us?" Angel asked.

"I want you to stick to the NCIS team," Buffy replied. "If all goes well, the Slayer teams will keep the guards away, but just in case, I'd be happier if they had some strength with them."

"So after everything, we probably won't get to see any of the action," Spike moaned.

"Be careful what you wish for," Giles warned. Spike just shrugged.

"Right, so everyone knows what they're doing?" Buffy asked. There were nods from around the table.

"Okay, then we meet an hour after sundown."

"Wait, why after sundown?" Gibbs asked. He glanced at Xander, obviously remembering Xander's prediction but not understanding it. "Why don't we head out there now? Darkness will give them an advantage."

"Not really. The darkness won't bother my teams, and it will give you an advantage," Buffy replied.

Gibbs stared, still not comprehending.

"Spike and I can't do daytime," Angel explained. "We're, uh, sensitive to sunlight."

"So, we can't rescue them for another few hours because you'll get a sunburn?" Gibbs asked, incredulous.

"Yeah, basically," Angel agreed, ignoring Spike's snorted laughter at the term 'sunburn'.

"I suggest you use these hours to rest or prepare or do whatever you need to so your team is ready, Agent Gibbs," Giles suggested. Gibbs looked over at the older man, aware that he'd sat back and let Buffy run this part of the proceedings.

"We'll be ready. Let's go, Harris."

"Oh, one more thing, Agent Gibbs," Buffy said. "No guns."

"What?" The incredulity was back in Gibbs' voice.

"No guns. They won't do you much good anyway, and guns and Slayers don't tend to mix too well."

He considered it. "Federal agents are always armed when working in the field."

She nodded. "Of course you can be armed. But not with guns."

He considered her a moment longer. "There's no way I can convince-"

"No, Agent Gibbs," Buffy replied.

"You're in charge," he conceded. "Harris?"

"Coming, Boss." Xander grinned at his friends before hurrying after Gibbs. They had to get Tony and Ziva up to speed and ready to go before sundown.


	13. Chapter 13

Xander slowed to turn off the main road into the industrial estate. His thoughts were in turmoil, as they had been for the last few days - so many different emotions, some conflicting, all vying for his attention. It was all he could do to try and focus on the situation at hand, and wait until the danger was over so he could collapse under the weight of it all.

It was bittersweet to see his Sunnydale family again. Particularly when it came at a time when he was just beginning to feel like he had a new family - something he certainly hadn't been expecting when he started at NCIS. It was great to see Buffy and Willow and Giles again - and even Spike and Angel - but it was awkward too. They'd grown apart, and they were working on different teams now. It was just that little bit weird.

Xander was afraid things might get weird with the new family too, depending on how this rescue plan went. He'd been immensely relieved that telling Gibbs about demons wasn't quite the revelation he feared it would be, but he didn't expect the same of Tony or Ziva. If anything happened during this fight that he couldn't explain away... what would they think of the truth? He was afraid they would question his sanity.

Still, there was nothing much he could do about it now but hope for the best. At least the demons in question looked human. If they had been any sort of horned or green type, Xander would have counselled against having NCIS involved at all.

He parked his car behind the one from the NCIS motor pool and jumped out. He walked round to the trunk and waved his teammates over. They were meeting a few blocks from the warehouse, and thanks to Gibbs' desire to get moving, they were early.

Xander had stopped by his apartment on the way, and now he surveyed the array of weapons he had grabbed. Tony whistled as he looked over Xander's shoulder.

"This is what she meant?" asked Gibbs.

"Yeah. Armed, but not with guns," Xander confirmed.

Ziva grabbed a long sword and tested it's edge. "Very sharp," she observed. She balanced it on her finger, finding the fulcrum quite close to the pommel. "And well made."

"Where did you get these?" asked Tony, grabbing a short sword for himself and examining it with fascination.

"They're mine," Xander answered.

"You just keep sharp swords around the place?"

"I've seen these," remarked Ziva. "They were hanging on the walls in your living room. I thought they were just ornamental."

"Wait, you've been to Probie's new apartment?" Tony exclaimed. "When? How come I haven't been invited over? Unless there's something going on I should know about?" he asked, raising his eyebrows suggestively.

"She dropped me home a few weeks ago, Tony," Xander replied patiently. He grabbed a short sword and handed to Gibbs. Gibbs held it up, adjusted his grip and waved it around a bit before handing it back.

"I'll make do with this, Harris," he said, pulling out a KA-BAR marine fighting knife. Xander nodded and returned the short sword to the trunk.

"Can I have the big one?" Tony took the long sword from Ziva and waved it around. "Whoa, it's heavy!"

"No, you can't Tony," said Xander, holding out a hand for it. "You keep the other short sword. Ziva, I figure you've probably used a curved blade like this before?"

She examined the one he had had given her. It was a bit longer than the short swords, with a wide curved blade.

"I have used something similar, yes. This is a bit heavier than the ones I have used, but I will adapt."

"Hopefully you won't need to, love," said Spike. Tony jumped.

"Sheesh, a bit of warning next time!" he frowned as the two vampires and Illyria emerged from the darkness.

"There wouldn't be any fun in that now, would there?" Spike grinned.

Angel watched as Tony mimed some inexpert attacks with the short sword. "We'll have you covered. Even if one somehow gets away from Buffy's teams, you shouldn't need to use that."

Gibbs just grunted.

There was the sound of vehicles approaching. Two rental cars pulled up, and a moment later their contents had spilled out. Buffy, Willow, Giles, Vi, and four other girls climbed out. Xander knew the other four by name - they'd all been at the school in Europe when he'd left, but he didn't know them well. Tony whistled appreciatively and Xander heard Gibbs mutter something in disbelief.

"They are all women?" asked Ziva. "Impressive."

"Women? They're just girls!" Tony exclaimed. Buffy turned her head, as though she had heard from where she was. Tony obviously didn't think that was possible, so he went on. "Little girls with big, scary knives and lithe, strong-"

Xander kicked Tony before he could say something that could get him hurt, but from the knowing grins and giggles amongst the Slayers, they could definitely hear and guess what he was going to say anyway.

Buffy spoke to Willow and Giles, and two of the girls, who then left in the direction of the warehouse, and headed over to them.

"Problem?" she asked, hands on hips.

"This is your best team?" Gibbs queried.

"Absolutely. You have nothing to worry about. Just focus on your part - getting those men out."

"Right," Gibbs replied grimly.

"And leave your gun in your vehicle," Buffy added. She turned to Ziva. "You too."

There was a momentary stand-off between Xander's teammates and the Slayer. Then Gibbs grudgingly braced one leg on the car and removed the backup gun from his ankle holster.

"Ziva," he stated.

Seeing that Gibbs had given in, Ziva glared unhappily but followed suit. They secured their weapons amongst the other gear being left in the car. Xander wondered how long Gibbs' unhappy obedience would last. His boss could take orders when he had to, but each new development seemed to stretch his acceptance a bit more.

Buffy turned to Tony. "And you don't go near any of my girls, or you'll regret it, understand?"

Tony's jaw dropped and he struggled for something to say. "I never - I wouldn't..."

Buffy just rolled her eyes. "Let's get moving," she announced. She and the other Slayers walked away.

Xander slid the long sword into it's scabbard and belted it around his waist, then fell in beside Gibbs, with Tony and Ziva right behind them. Spike and Angel could be heard bickering even further back, but their voices trailed off as they approached the warehouse. They met in the same alley where Xander and Ziva had staked it out the night before.

The two girls Buffy had sent ahead as scouts were returning just as they reached the spot where Willow and Giles waited. They spoke to Buffy briefly, before she turned to address them all.

"There's now nine guards in the building, and six marines. Willow has confirmed the guards are definitely Felkor."

"Makes sense," Spike commented. "The extra guards must have been out abducting the two new captives when we were here last night."

"Sorry, what does 'Felkor' mean?" asked Ziva.

"Uh..." Buffy looked to Xander.

"It's means they're part of the cult," Xander supplied, falling back on the cover story they'd told them earlier.

"Nine guards means your team is outnumbered, Buffy," Angel put in. "Are you sure you don't want us with you?"

She shook her head. "The six of us should be more than enough. And I'd feel much better if you were with the-" Buffy caught herself. Xander suspected she had been going to say 'humans' or 'civilians'. "The NCIS team," she continued. "They don't have as much experience with, er, cults."

Angel wasn't satisfied by her confidence. "At least take Illyria with you. Even up the odds a bit," he suggested.

"It can't hurt," Willow said.

Buffy sighed. "Fine." She turned to Illyria. "You stay with me at all times, got it?"

"Understood," Illyria agreed.

Angel visibly relaxed - whether due to Buffy agreeing to take an extra fighter, or Illyria's acceptance of Buffy as a leader, Xander couldn't be sure. Possibly both.

The Slayers left, two girls following Vi whilst Illyria and the other two girls followed Buffy. They disappeared silently into the darkness moments later.

"They are young, but appear to be very experienced," Ziva commented.

"They are," Willow agreed. "Now, Xander, can you hear me?"

Xander jumped as her voice suddenly boomed inside his head. "Ow! Willow! Turn down the volume!"

"Oops, sorry. How's this?" She smiled guiltily.

"Better," he confirmed. He noticed Tony looking at him in confusion.

"Where's your earpiece?" Tony asked.

"Uh..." Crap, how to explain this one?

"He has an implant," said Willow smoothly. She pointed out an old scar above Xander's left ear, hidden just inside the hairline. "See, just there."

She grinned at Xander, and he grinned back, remembering that it had been Willow that had given him that scar - a clichéd lesson in not running with sharp objects. It was one of the few scars he had which pre-dated the arrival of the supernatural in their lives.

"An implant?" Tony echoed. "That must be some pretty fancy tech."

Willow looked towards the warehouse.

"Loud and clear Buffy. Sending them in now." She glanced back to wave them forward. "Your way is clear, go get those men back!"

Gibbs had been restless since the Slayers left, and immediately set off at a jog. Everyone hurried to catch up to him, and moments later they approached the building. Gibbs slowed by the door to check the way was clear, and Angel moved himself to second in line. Glancing back, Xander saw that Spike was bringing up the rear. Regardless of how much they grumbled, it seemed the vampires were taking their mission to protect the NCIS team seriously.

There was the sound of distant yelling and movement, but nothing nearby. They slipped inside in single file.

"Left," Angel murmured, and Gibbs headed down the hall. These rooms near the front seemed to be empty offices. They moved quickly, ears pricked for any sudden noise.

Angel kept giving soft directions and soon they were emerging into open space near the rear of the main warehouse. He pointed to a set of steps leading down nearby, and Gibbs hurried towards them.

Heading down after Ziva, Xander turned the corner at the bottom to find a basic concrete basement, with six wary looking marines standing opposite. They were standing tall, looking grim and taut, ready to attack.

"Alright men, we're here to get you out," said Gibbs. "Anyone need any help with that?"

The marines didn't answer. One or two looked briefly confused, then returned to their grimly determined stance. Spike, last to arrive down the stairs, started to wander around the room.

"Nice place you got here. Could use a bit more furniture, but hey, you can go back to your real homes now, right? None of this camping in the basement stuff."

The nearest Marine pulled back his arm and punched Spike hard in the face.

"Ow! Why you-!"

"Spike! Don't!" Angel yelled, before Spike could retaliate. Spike pulled his punch and grabbed the man's arm instead. Then he twisted him round and grabbed his other arm, adjusting his hold so that he could restrain both the Marine's hands with just one of his own.

"I wasn't gonna hurt him," Spike grumbled. "Least, not permanently."

The other marines had backed off a step and were watching cautiously, still apparently ready to attack any moment. Gibbs had walked up to the man Spike was holding and was searching his face. "Marine! What the hell do you think you're doing!"

There was no trouble getting an answer now. "Protecting the subject as ordered, Sir!"

"Who is the subject?"

"Mr Fox, Sir!"

"And who gave these orders?"

The marine's certainty seemed to stumble, and a look of confusion crossed his face.

Angel turned to Xander. "I think it's a mesmer," he hissed. With twelve people in the small concrete room, there was enough other noise to prevent anyone else hearing them.

"Okay... what do we do about it?" Xander asked.

Angel looked at him in surprise. "Tell Willow!"

Oh. Right. Xander turned back towards the doorway and told Willow what had happened.

"A mesmer?" she replied directly into Xander's head. "Give me a minute." Xander looked back; Gibbs was still holding everyone's attention with his interrogation, though there wasn't much more information forthcoming. Xander recognised the marine as Private First Class Drummond, one who had been taken a week ago. Willow's voice returned.

"Xander? You're right, it is a mesmer. Just another second, and I'll..." she trailed off.

Suddenly, all the marines seemed to sag, as though whatever motivation had been holding them to attention had suddenly disappeared. More than one stumbled forward, their confusion and bewilderment plain to see. After a moment, Drummond fainted, and a split second later Spike had caught him. Another fell to his knees, holding his head.

"Whoa, okay, what was that?" exclaimed Tony.

"Xander? Did it work? Please tell me it worked, and I didn't turn them into rabid warriors or something," came Willow's worried voice.

"No, we're fine Willow. On our way out now," he replied.

Gibbs and Angel were moving through the marines, checking they were okay and coherent. They mostly seemed confused and disoriented, and didn't understand what was going on, but were otherwise unharmed. The one who had fallen to his knees - Private Taylor - couldn't seem to get his balance. Gibbs helped him up, and Tony moved in to help support him on the other side. Angel and Ziva moved to assist a marine each. Spike was now carrying Drummond, who didn't look like he would be waking any time soon. Xander looked at the last two, concluding that they must be the men who had only been taken the night before. They seemed to be the most alert.

One noticed him looking, and Xander recognised him as Hunter. "We're okay, sir. I don't understand what's going on here, but Michaels and I will help however we can." Michaels nodded.

"Okay, you two take over from Ziva there," said Xander. "I'll lead the way, Ziva, you bring up the rear."

"Of course." Ziva passed the marine she was supporting to the two men.

Gibbs motioned for Xander to get moving. "Let's go," he ordered.

Xander cautiously climbed the stairs, listening for any noise for above. The echo of distant fighting reached his ears a moment before the sound of movement beside his head. He ducked instinctively.

The battle axe hit the side of the stairs beside him. Xander looked up to see a man - no, a Felkor demon. He scrambled up the last few stairs and drew his long sword.

"Harris?" called Gibbs, concern in his voice.

"Just a minute, Boss," Xander replied breathlessly. He raised his sword as the Felkor demon lifted the battle axe again. "Willow, we could use a Slayer down here!" He barely heard her acknowledgement. The axe swung and Xander dodged it with a quick half-step. He took a few steps sideways, and the demon followed, moving away from the stairs.

"Now, Boss! Go!" Xander called, ducking under another swing. He countered with his own attack, driving the demon back another step.

The first head to appear up the stairs was actually Angel, half-carrying, half-dragging his dazed marine with him.

"Xander!"

"Keep going Angel! They'll need you if you encounter any more on the way out. So go!" Xander barely dodged the next swing. He cursed the distraction but thankfully Angel didn't argue. He parried the next swing efficiently, grateful for the sound of footsteps hurrying behind him. The demon was stronger by far, but the battle axe was a slow and heavy weapon. Xander was quicker and able to meet each new swing, but he knew he could only last so long.

"Wow, Probie can really use that thing," muttered Tony, sounding awed. Xander stepped back, parried the next swing, pushed forward again.

"Keep moving DiNozzo," Gibbs ground out.

Xander misjudged the next dodge and yelped as the axe grazed his shoulder. "Willow!" he cried, desperation starting to show in his voice.

"They're on their way Xander!" she assured him, though she sounded worried.

He parried another swing but lost ground. The demon took another step. Xander stepped back mid-parry but lost his footing, landing heavily on his back. His sword slashed the demon's shin, tearing and getting caught in the loose pants. The axe swung round again and Xander couldn't bring his sword up quickly enough. He tried to twist aside and braced for the impact.

There was a clang and he saw that a curved blade had caught the axe handle. _Ziva_ , Xander noticed with relief. The Felkor demon yanked the axe back and Ziva's curved blade went flying. But the interruption was more than enough opportunity for Xander to get back on his feet.

"Ziva, get back to the others!"

The demon lifted the axe, readying the next blow.

"Not without you, Xander," she objected.

"I'm fine, go to-" Suddenly, a knife flew past them and embedded itself in the demon's arm. It yelled in pain, and almost dropped the axe.

"Actually, you can both go," came Violet's calm voice. "We'll take it from here."

The demon paused to pull the knife out, and Xander took the opportunity to back away. Violet and one of the other girls (Madison, if he remembered rightly) moved forward. He grabbed Ziva's arm.

"Time to go."

"But we can't just leave two girls-"

"Yes we can, Ziva." He turned down the hall they'd come down originally, dragging her with him.

They caught up to the others just outside the building and hurried back to the meeting point where Giles and Willow waited. Xander didn't allow himself to drop his guard at all until they were all safely there. The group spread out, the marines choosing to sag tiredly against the walls of the buildings either side of the alley. Spike placed the unconscious marine on the ground and slapped his face, but he didn't wake. Gibbs looked on grimly.

"DiNozzo."

Tony followed his gaze and pulled out his phone. "Ambulance, got it."

"Make it two, I want all these men checked out," Gibbs replied.

Xander leaned over, catching his breath and trying to ignore the growing pain from his shoulder. The marines were safe.


	14. Chapter 14

Xander sat patiently as the nurse applied a large wound dressing to his grazed shoulder. The new injury was higher on the same arm as the stab wound, which had opened and bled a little from his actions earlier. It had been freshly dressed, and now the shoulder was just about done too.

Gibbs stood nearby, and nodded when when the nurse said Xander could go. They headed down the hospital corridor. Xander grimaced at the sting from his new wound.

"Ugh, that's going to hurt for a while." He paused. "Guess I should be happy I still have both arms though."

"Yeah, and your head," Gibbs drawled. "So what happened to these marines?"

"They were under a mesmer." At Gibbs' sideways glare, Xander continued. "It's somewhere between brainwashing and hypnotism. Willow took the mesmer off, so they should be fine now."

"Just like that?"

"Apparently."

Gibbs grunted. They turned a corner to where Tony waited in the corridor.

"Hey Boss. Xander," he greeted cheerfully. "How's your shoulder?"

Xander instinctively shrugged, then grimaced.

"He'll be fine if he doesn't get any more knife wounds in that arm," Gibbs cut in. "Any news?"

Tony looked back towards the double doors leading to the ward, where Xander presumed the marines were now being treated.

"Doc says they're fine, not a mark on them." Tony looked back at them. "It looks like they weren't even restrained. Why didn't they realise something was wrong?"

"Some sort of hypnotism, DiNozzo," Gibbs replied.

"A cult that hypnotises people into joining?" Tony mused. "That's genius."

Gibbs rolled his eyes. "What about mentally?"

"Shrink is with them now, doing an initial assessment," Tony replied.

Gibbs nodded. "Get the report, then meet us back at the office."

"Sure Boss. Hey, Probie?" Tony grabbed Xander's uninjured arm as Gibbs walked away. "You gotta teach me some of your sword fighting skills! Those moves earlier - that was awesome!"

"Harris!" Gibbs called.

"Maybe," Xander grinned. He hurried to catch Gibbs up. "Coming Boss!"

* * *

Gibbs strode out of the elevator, Xander following at a slightly more sedate pace. They both stopped when they saw Ziva and Giles standing in the middle of the bullpen. Then Gibbs pushed past to his desk.

"Da-vid. Thought I told you to stay with the Council's team."

"Yes, Gibbs. You did."

Xander made his way past to his own desk. Gibbs looked at Ziva expectantly.

"I stayed with them until they came back here. Then Mr. Giles and Miss Summers had a private meeting with Vance. When they emerged, Vance ordered me to stay here, and the girls left."

Gibbs turned his expectant gaze to Giles. Giles cleared his throat.

"Yes, well, everything at the warehouse had been, uh, finished," he said. "Which meant there was only one thing left to deal with before we could consider the whole matter closed."

"Fox," Gibbs stated.

"Indeed."

Gibbs moved out from behind his desk to stand nose to nose with Giles. "You mean to tell me they've gone to deal with this bastard without informing me, and without taking any of my team as witness?"

"Yes, that is precisely what has happened. And your director approved," Giles replied calmly.

"Why?" Gibbs demanded.

"Because it would be a political minefield for us, Gibbs," came Vance's voice. Xander looked up to see Vance leaning on the railing, halfway up the stairs.

Gibbs took a moment to consider the director. "What do you know, Leon?"

"I haven't been read in, if that's what you're asking. I believe you have been?"

Gibbs gave a curt nod. Vance turned away to head down the stairs and over to the bullpen.

"Mr Giles and Miss Summers informed me that NCIS doesn't have the evidence to bring these people to justice our way. They also convinced me that attempting to bring charges against your main suspect in this case would only lead to public humiliation of the agency. Now, I have it on good authority that the Council is a trustworthy ally, so I took their word for it," said Vance with a nod to Giles. "But I'd sure as hell feel better if you backed them up on those points, Gibbs."

Xander watched with interest. Ziva, he could see, was doing the same from her desk.

Gibbs conceded the point with a slight nod. "Yeah, it's true."

"So if you brought this guy in, and it went to trial, what are the chances we'd win?"

Gibbs didn't answer immediately, so Xander said what they all knew. "Zero. He'd get away with it."

"Which is exactly what we told your Director," put in Giles. "Therefore, he allowed us to handle this part of the matter, and allow NCIS to avoid any political issues by associating your name only with the rescue of the marines."

Xander was impressed. Buffy and Giles had thought this through. They could handle Fox their own way without being held back by NCIS's rules. And they were right of course: they didn't have any non-magical evidence against Senator Fox, except the word of a demon office-cleaner. There was no way it could go to trial. NCIS would lose face, and probably funding too. And Vance and the whole MCRT team could lose their jobs if it became a big enough embarrassment to the agency.

Gibbs seemed to realise this too, as he turned back to his desk. He sat down and appeared to be looking something up on his computer.

"Gibbs?" asked Vance.

"Yeah, you're right Leon. The Council can have this one," he muttered. He clearly wasn't happy about the situation, but knew they were right.

"Good. One other thing. Your reports on this are not to mention the Council. Report on your own actions only."

Gibbs nodded. Vance walked off, and Giles excused himself to the break room. Ziva watched him go, then stepped up to lean on Gibbs' desk.

"You agree with this, Gibbs?" she asked, incredulous. "That we should not be the ones catching this guy, and we should hide the facts in our reports?"

Gibbs returned Ziva's look. "I expect you to follow orders, David."

Ziva angrily pushed off the desk and paced into middle of the bullpen. "This is very unlike you, Gibbs. To let another agency take over, especially one we've never heard of before this case? Even Mossad would not shine a lantern on this ' _Council_ ' for me. And to agree to limiting our reports in this manner? I do not understand. There is much more going on here than you have told me. I don't believe for a minute that this was the work of some 'cult'. What's really going on?"

The elevator bell had dinged in the middle of her speech, and Tony leaned on the wall of the bullpen for the rest of Ziva's rant.

"I wouldn't mind knowing that, Boss," he added. "Hard to do good work on a case when you're only given half the facts."

"It's need to know, DiNozzo, and I doubt either of you will be read in. What did the shrink say?" Gibbs ignored Ziva completely, which Xander expected would only make her angrier, but she also turned to hear what Tony had to say.

"Nothing we didn't already know. They're all suffering confusion and some level of delusion. Couldn't say what the cause was, and when I mentioned your theory of hypnotism, he looked at me like _I_ needed my head checked." Tony shrugged. "He expects them all to make a full recovery in the next week or two. Hunter and Michaels will probably be discharged tomorrow."

Xander was relieved. Willow had assured him there shouldn't be any lasting damage, but the number of times they'd been certain of something back in Sunnydale, only to find out how wrong they were...

He was surprised out of his thoughts by Ziva sitting on the edge of his desk. He glanced over and noticed Gibbs had left the bullpen. Tony was lounging at his desk.

"You know what is going on, no?"

Xander sighed. "Look, Ziva, I can't tell you anything."

"Because it's classified and Tony and I haven't been read-in?"

"You know this."

Ziva paused briefly. "And this information that we don't have access to, is the reason for Gibbs' strange behaviour?"

"Strange behaviour?" Xander hadn't thought about it, but then, he knew the reasoning behind everything that was happening.

"Yes. He is behaving strangely!" Ziva repeated. "He allowed an unknown agency that he clearly does not trust, to take over the case! He is taking orders from a 25 year old girl! He even consented to leaving our weapons behind when we were going into a hostile situation! These are not things the Gibbs I know would do!"

Her rant done, Ziva stopped. She glared angrily at Xander, daring him to contradict her. He took a moment to pick his words carefully. She was right. If Gibbs had done all of this without Xander knowing why, he would have thought something was wrong too.

"Yes," he answered.

"Yes?" Ziva frowned, confused.

"Yes, the classified information that he knows is the reason why he's doing things you don't understand. It's why you can't understand his decisions, because you don't know the whole story."

"Probie," interrupted Tony. "Since you know this 'classified information', do you think Gibbs' decisions are strange?"

 _Thank you Tony_ , Xander thought with relief. _Exactly the right question_. "No, not at all," he assured them. "Although, as for Gibbs allowing the Council to take over, he didn't have a choice. Orders came from somewhere above Vance that it was their case and we were to co-operate fully. And Gibbs understands the chain of command, so of course he's taking orders from Buffy. If he didn't, they would have taken us off the case completely."

There was a pause as he let them absorb that. Tony leaned back in his chair, apparently satisfied for now. Ziva looked back at Xander and he braced himself for another round.

"You were quite good with that sword earlier," she stated.

Well, that was unexpected. Looked like he was off the hook. He shrugged.

"Up until the point where you had to save my life," he countered.

Ziva shook her head. "A long sword is a difficult weapon. Your opponent seemed stronger and had a heavy weapon - I was impressed by your skill in holding him off."

Xander allowed himself a small grin. "Thanks. Been a long while since I had any practice, so I was a bit impressed with myself, to tell the truth."

"Where did you learn?" she asked, casually. Too casually.

"Er..." Crap. She was fishing for information again. He forced a grin. "Sorry, can't say."

"Are you permitted to speak at all, Probie?" Tony muttered sarcastically.

"Let's do this the other way round then," Xander suggested. "How much have you managed to find out?"

"What do you mean?" asked Ziva.

"About Angel, about Buffy, Willow and Giles, the Council? About me? I know Gibbs had you checking into everyone's backgrounds, so come on. What did you find?"

Ziva and Tony exchanged glances.

"Not much," Tony finally answered. "For starters, we don't have surnames for Angel and his friends. Makes it hard to look them up. Did you know there's more than 180,000 people named 'Angel' in the States? And California has more than it's fair share."

"And I'm not convinced that those are even their real first names," Ziva added.

Xander nodded. "Spike's real name was William, but I don't know about his surname. And I don't know any real name details for Angel or Illyria." Actually, Xander thought Spike and Angels' original names might have been in one of Giles' books, and Buffy or Willow might know them, but that was beside the point.

"I thought you had known Spike and Angel a long time? Yet you do not even know their full names?" Ziva frowned.

Xander shrugged.

"Well, looking up 'William from California' won't do us any good either," Tony grouched. "We were able to find a little more on your Council friends - high school transcripts told us you went to school with Buffy and Willow, and there's immigration details for Giles showing that he took up position at your school, as the librarian. But we got almost zilch on the ISWC. Ziva's friends in Mossad said it's been around forever, but they wouldn't tell us anything about what they do and basically told us to stay out of the Council's way."

"I also found a couple of electronic police reports mentioning you and your friends as witnesses," Ziva added. "But since you lived in that sinkhole town in California, most records have been lost, so that was about all we found."

Xander nodded. "Well, you're not missing much. That's about the sum of it," he agreed casually.

From the disbelieving looks on their faces, neither Tony nor Ziva bought that at all.

"We're still missing _most_ of it!" Ziva sputtered.

"It doesn't explain how your friends managed to be heading up an international agency just a few years out of high school," Tony pointed out.

"Or how you came to be so good with a sword. Did you have a master swordsman teaching classes in Sunnydale?" asked Ziva.

Xander picked the easier of those two topics. "What is with the sword focus? Isn't it enough that I saved our butts back in that warehouse?"

"I want you to teach me," Ziva explained. "I wondered if there was a particular style you had been taught."

"Wait, I asked first!" Tony sat upright in his chair again. "If you teach her, you have to teach me too."

"I don't see why you'd need it," Xander told Ziva. "You're already the best at hand-to-hand combat."

"You can never be skilled in too many forms of fighting, Xander," said Buffy from behind them. "I would have thought you'd know that."

Ziva quickly stood and turned. Buffy and Willow were just arriving at the bullpen. Angel was a few steps behind.

"I did not hear the lift arrive," Ziva frowned.

"We used the stairs," Buffy replied. But they weren't out of breath and the slightly nauseated look on Angel's face made Xander suspect Willow had actually used some sort of portal. "Are Giles and Gibbs around?"

"Right here, Miss Summers," Gibbs said, returning from the break room with Giles in tow.

"Everything taken care of, Buffy?" Giles asked.

"Sure, we just came to update these guys and fetch you so we can call it a night," Buffy replied. Her words were flippant but she sounded tired. Xander checked his watch. Nearly four in the morning.

"Ziva, Tony, go get a coffee," Gibbs ordered.

"I don't want a..." Ziva began, but Tony grabbed her arm.

"C'mon Ziva, I'll make you the DiNozzo Double Mocha Chilli Latte Special. It takes a full five minutes but it's worth it."

"Ten minutes," Gibbs corrected. Tony waved a hand in acknowledgement whilst Ziva argued that there was no cocoa powder kept in the break room, let alone a coffee machine for frothing milk. The group watched as they disappeared down the hall. Out of the corner of his eye, Xander saw Willow mouth some words and make a small hand gesture.

"You got him then?" Giles asked. "Senator Fox was definitely behind this?"

Buffy nodded. "Oh yeah. He did the clichéd 'I'll admit it since I'm going to destroy you with my awesome sorcery' thing. Then we took him down. He won't be doing any more spells, ever."

Gibbs frowned. "By that, you mean..?"

"He's not dead," Angel assured him.

"Oh, no," said Buffy. "I mean, yeah, often enough our work gets, uh... never mind. Point is, we just restrained him long enough for Willow to do her stuff and then sent him home. He won't remember any of this."

"Her stuff?" asked Gibbs, his gaze shifting to Willow.

"I removed all knowledge of the marines and the Badinok Spell from his mind," she explained. "And he won't ever be able do it again. I added a little something extra that basically dampens his ability to use magic at all."

"You can do that?" Gibbs asked, surprised.

"Willow is one of the most naturally talented witches I've ever met," Giles said, a hint of pride in his voice.

"So that should be the end of it," Buffy summed up.

"What about all the missing marines we didn't find in time?" Xander asked.

Buffy shook her head, sadly. "We can't change the past. We can only be glad we managed to save the ones we did."

"Our reports will show that we thought there was a link, but found no proof of it," Gibbs clarified. "They will remain unsolved UA cases." He turned back to the Council representatives. "What now?"

"You mean, after we sleep?" Buffy asked. "We'll be hanging around D.C. for the rest of the week. If we split into pairs to patrol every night, we should be able to cover a lot of ground and hopefully prevent some of the violence, like Angel was originally attempting to do." She acknowledged him with a nod.

"All of this over a prophecy that might not happen at all, let alone happen now," Angel muttered, shaking his head.

"Well, by next week, all this unnecessary violence should be over and we can go home," Giles agreed wearily.

"Then I believe this is as far as our co-operation goes," Gibbs concluded.

Giles agreed. "Thank you for all your help, Agent Gibbs. Working with other law enforcement agencies is rarely pleasant, for us or them, and I'm glad to say this has been one of the easiest I've ever been involved in."

Gibbs looked mildly surprised and shook Giles' offered hand. He nodded politely at the girls.

"Miss Summers, Miss Rosenberg."

"Oh, here, take this." Buffy handed Gibbs her card. "Call us if you ever come across anything supernatural or demon related. We'll be happy to take care of it." Gibbs tucked the card into his pocket.

Willow caught Xander's arm. "You'll come round while we're in town, right? Or can we come check out your new place?" Her eyes lit up at the second possibility.

Xander laughed and gave her a one-armed hug. "Of course, Will. I'll give you a call and we'll make plans for that pizza and movie night, sometime _after_ I've had a decent sleep."

The three Scooby gang members headed for the lift. Angel stepped up to Xander and Gibbs, briefly glancing at Buffy's back.

"You already have my card. If you ever need anything done more quietly than a large team of hormonal girls can do-"

"I _can_ hear you Angel," Buffy commented.

"I'm good at getting information and doing it in a _subtle_ manner," he finished. "So feel free to call. It was good to see you again, Xander. I know Spike was glad to see you too. If you ever come to L.A. on vacation, make sure you stop by."

"You're heading back straight away?" Xander was disappointed he wouldn't get to say goodbye to Spike in person. Then he was surprised to realise he felt that way.

Angel shrugged. "That's up to Buffy, but our, er, _supplies_ , are starting to run low, so we won't stay longer than we need to."

Xander nodded. "I'll definitely have to visit L.A. sometime then."

Angel followed the others to the lift just as the 'ding' announced that it had arrived. Xander saw Willow repeat her gesture from before, then look down the corridor to the break room.

"Okay you two, you can stop trying to listen in now," she called.

After a moment, Ziva and Tony emerged red-faced from a doorway. They were definitely close enough to have heard normal conversation in the bullpen - especially since it was empty of anyone else at 4am. Willow looked back at Xander with a grin.

"Bye Xander, Agent Gibbs." She stepped into the lift after the others and the doors closed behind them. The last thing they heard was Angel and Buffy discussing whether Illyria would have a chance to spar against any of the Slayers while they were in the same city.

Tony and Ziva sheepishly returned to the bullpen.

"Hear anything good?" Gibbs asked drily, walking back to his desk.

"Uh, we didn't hear anything at all, actually," Tony admitted, sounding confused. "I mean, we should have at least been able to hear voices, even if you were speaking quietly and we couldn't make out the words, but it was dead silent, like there was no one here. Even though you were all here." He shuddered briefly, as though spooked.

"Sounds like you need some sleep, DiNozzo," Gibbs replied. "Let's get out of here."


	15. Chapter 15

"Good luck, Private Sandford."

"Thanks for all your help Agent DiNozzo; Agent Harris."

The young marine grabbed the small bag of belongings he'd gathered whilst in hospital and headed into the barracks. Tony leaned against the drivers side of the car.

"Think he'll be alright?"

Xander shrugged. "Shrink seems to think so. And he seemed alright to me."

Tony nodded and got into the car. Xander climbed in beside him, reaching to turn the radio on for the trip back. The news headlines were just starting.

" _In breaking news, popular Senator Oliver Fox has shocked his fellow party members by announcing his resignation today, more than eighteen months before his seat would next be up for re-election. In a statement to the media this morning, he advised the decision had been made for 'personal reasons' and declined to give any further details._ "

"Wow, Senator Fox?" commented Tony. "That's a shame. He seemed like such a cool guy, for a politician."

Xander made a non-committal 'hmm' sound.

" _In other news, police spokesman Andy Narwee confirmed that Washington D.C.'s recent spate of violent crimes seems to have ended on the weekend, with the number of incidents dropping significantly since Sunday night. However, he admitted that the police were still at a loss to explain why there was such a huge surge in unrelated violent-_ "

Tony reached over and switched the station to one playing music.

"We hear enough about that stuff at work," he told Xander, half-apologising. Xander shrugged and turned to watch the passing streets.

Both Buffy and Angel's teams had stayed around for the end of the week, as promised. Once the sun rose on Monday it was as though the whole demon world was holding it's breath, waiting to see if the prophecy would come true... but nothing happened. Nothing anyone could tell, in any case. Angel repeated his belief that the prophecy might not have been real, let alone translated correctly. Everyone begrudgingly agreed.

Angel, Spike and Illyria had headed home as soon as the sun set that evening, Spike still complaining about bloody money-grabbing prophecy translators.

Xander had invited Willow and Buffy around to his place on Monday night, and they'd had the promised pizza and movie night. Giles had been invited too, but he declined, choosing to accompany the younger Slayers on the flight home instead.

The three of them had a great time, though none of them could have told you what the movie was about. They stayed up most of the night talking about anything and everything - it was just like old times, Xander thought, smiling to himself. Buffy had told him stories about the demons they'd encountered and the trials and tribulations of schooling and training the new Slayers. Willow had proudly told him about her own students. He'd told them all about his work with NCIS and how much he liked it. All of this had been done by email now and then over the last few years, but it was so much better when they were sitting in the same room, digging big spoonfuls of Belgian Chocolate Ice Cream out of the same tub.

By the time they left he had convinced them he was happy and settled. The emotional farewell had been tempered by the promise that he would visit them when he could. The girls had gone straight to the airport to catch their flight home, whilst Xander went back to bed for just a couple of hours sleep. It was worth putting up with DiNozzo's teasing and Gibbs' disapproving glares when he arrived at work looking exhausted the next day.

That had been yesterday. Today, just a week after the dramatic rescue, the fourth of the six marines was released from hospital, and Tony and Xander had driven him back to base. Since he'd been cleared by the psychiatrists at Bethesda, Private Sandford was going to be rejoining his unit immediately.

A few minutes later, Xander followed Tony out of the lift into the bullpen.

"McGeek!" Tony exclaimed. "Who let you out of the dungeon?"

Xander looked up. Tim was standing in the bullpen, with a cardboard box in his arms. Another box sat on Xander's desk chair. Xander got a sinking feeling.

"Hey Tony, Xander," he greeted them. "I was just, uh..."

"McGee is rejoining our team," Ziva announced, clearly pleased by the news. She smiled happily across the bullpen.

McGee cleared his throat. "Yeah, Winters is back and I'm not needed down in Cyber anymore, so I've been moved back up here, and..." he trailed off again, looking guiltily at Xander.

Xander smiled at McGee, trying to reassure him. It wasn't McGee's fault, after all. They'd known all along that this was going to happen - it was just a matter of when.

"Well, we know what happens next!" Tony announced. "Gibbs will write a report on how great Xander is, and recommend that Vance keeps him on. Right, Boss? Or, you know what, if you'd like I can write the report and you can just sign off on it. Because I know you're so busy and all."

"No need, DiNozzo, report's already been handed over." Gibbs finally looked up at them, his gaze settling on Xander. "Harris, the Director will see you in his office."

Xander nodded and put his gear down at his/McGee's desk then headed for the stairs. He felt like he was wading through a thick syrup, each step taking a huge effort. He hoped it looked like he was walking normally. Ironically, if someone had asked him a month ago, he'd have said there was no doubt about his future at NCIS. If Buffy and Willow had asked two days ago, he'd have told them that Gibbs' report would _of course_ be positive, and Vance would naturally assign him to another team. But now that the moment had arrived, he wasn't certain any more. Gibbs had glared at him all day yesterday after turning up to work with barely any sleep. He still hadn't answered a lot of his boss's questions about the demon world and his own experiences. And God knows he'd made his fair share of mistakes in his time on the team. Getting wounded seemed to be his specialty.

And Gibbs hadn't given anything away. He had frowned as he told Harris to see the Director, but was it just his normal frown, or was it a reflection of what was going to happen when Xander got there?

Or here, rather, since Xander now found himself at the Director's office. He stepped inside and nodded to the secretary, who smiled at him.

"Just a moment," she said, reaching for the intercom. "Director? Agent Harris is here to see you."

"Send him in," came Vance's response.

Xander entered and moved to stand in front of Vance's desk. He felt almost as nervous as the last time he'd been standing here, on his first day at NCIS. Like last time, Vance was flicking through the papers in a folder, but this time it contained Xander's personnel file and Gibbs' report.

"Agent Harris."

"Yes sir."

"Just been reading this report Gibbs sent up. Though I don't need to read it to know what Gibbs thinks of you as an agent."

Xander wasn't sure what to say to that. Thankfully, Vance grinned around his toothpick and continued.

"If Gibbs didn't like you, he'd have been up here harassing me every other day. Since he hasn't done that, we can safely assume that you fitted into the team and made yourself useful."

Xander was relieved. "Uh, thank you sir."

"Don't thank me, it's all your own doing. Most new agents don't last this long with Gibbs," Vance drawled, still grinning. "You've earned this, Harris."

Vance handed Xander an envelope, and at the Director's nod, he opened it. It contained a formal letter offering him a permanent position with NCIS on the condition of completing certain training programs at FLETC. The second page listed which programs they were.

"We've booked your place in the courses listed there. You'll be attending FLETC in Georgia for about a month. When you get back, we'll see which team could use a bit of help."

Xander didn't know what to say. Vance took his silence to mean something else.

"Unless you'd rather not take the offer, Harris. Nobody would blame you if preferred to find work elsewhere."

Xander found his voice. "No! No, I mean, I definitely want to stay. Here. At NCIS."

Vance leaned back in his chair, a smug grin showing. "Then it's settled. See you in a month, Agent Harris."

Xander nodded in acknowledgement as he backed away and left the office. He headed back down the stairs, staring at the papers in his hands. He got to the bullpen before he looked up, where he found Abby was now sitting on the edge of his - _McGee's_ \- desk. Everyone was looking at him expectantly. Except Gibbs.

"Well?" Abby demanded. She crossed the bullpen to grab Xander's shoulders. "Don't keep us in suspense Xander! Gibbs won't tell us what he wrote in his report, so we don't... please tell me they're not sending you away?" she begged.

"I'm going to Georgia," he told her.

Abby's face fell, but beside them Tony grinned and clapped Xander on the shoulder. "Congrats Harris. We'll make a real Agent out of you yet."

"Huh?" asked Abby.

"They're sending me to FLETC, in Georgia. I'll be back in a month as a permanent NCIS Agent," Xander grinned.

Abby threw her arms around him, nearly knocking him over. Xander laughed as McGee and Ziva came over to offer their congratulations too. Tony grabbed the letter out of Xander's hand and read out the names of the short courses Xander was scheduled to do, and complained aloud that he had never gotten to go to any of these. Xander caught Gibbs' eye through the huddle, and the Boss gave him a single, approving nod.

* * *

That evening, Xander let himself into Gibbs' house and headed for the kitchen. He took two beers from the six-pack and put the rest away in the fridge, then followed the light coming from under the basement door. Gibbs was working on the boat. Xander jogged noisily down the stairs, opened the beers, and handed one to Gibbs. Gibbs took a swig, then placed it on the boat beside him and kept working. Xander found himself some sandpaper and another place on the boat to work.

After a few minutes of working silently together, Xander cleared his throat.

"So, for me, all of this started in high school. It was the beginning of sophomore year, and there was a new girl at school. Her name was Buffy..."

* * *

Frak whistled cheerfully to himself as he walked to the next office building on his cleaning schedule. It was getting late, and there were few other pedestrians still in the business district. He absently played with a coin in his coat pocket, flipping it around and rubbing the smooth surface.

He saw a woman in a business suit who was rummaging through her handbag. He could hear her sniffling and as he passed she pulled out a tissue and blew her nose.

_Poor thing_ , Frak thought. _Hope that cold clears up quickly_. He continued on down the street.

Behind him, the woman paused as her headache suddenly lifted. She sniffed, then took another deep breath through her nose. She smiled, tucked the tissue into her pocket, and walked away.

Frak pulled out the shiny coin from his pocket and examined it again. A 'Lucky Coin', his grandmother had written. She'd sent it along in a box of trinkets found in the attic. She didn't know where half the items had come from or who their previous owners had been, but she had picked out any she thought Frak would like. The parcel had arrived with Monday's mail, and Frak had immediately started carrying the coin everywhere. It felt nice and comfortable in his hand, and hey, who knows right? Maybe it really would bring him luck.

He reached the next building and cheerfully waved to the security guard on duty in the lobby.

"Hey Dan, how's it going?"

Dan grinned back. "Been quiet tonight Frank, not many left in the building to disturb you."

"Ah, it never bothers me, you know," Frak replied. "But why are you on night shift again? Thought you were up for some time off?"

"Aw, yeah," Dan said, scratching his head. "But Ben's kid is sick and Jason quit last week so we're a bit short-handed."

Frak shook his head. "Hope your boss rewards you properly, don't know what they'd do without you, you know? You deserve a pay rise or something."

Dan laughed. "That'd be nice, for sure. Hey listen, you should head up to Matt Green's office before you start your rounds tonight, he said he wanted to see you about something."

Frak glanced towards the elevator. "He still in?"

"Yeah, you know he likes to work late." Dan's cell phone rang, and he checked the screen. "That's the boss calling - see you later Frank."

"Bye Dan."

The elevator was waiting at ground floor, so Frak stepped in immediately.

In the lobby, Dan grinned in delight as his boss advised him that a pay rise would be coming his way as thanks for all the extra work he'd put in lately.

On the other side of the world, there was a dusty old book in the Council's slowly growing library entitled 'The Vexta Book of Magical Items'. Should anyone have thought to look it up, they would have found an entry as follows:

>   
> **Pifaki Lucky Coins**  
>  Once almost commonplace, these coins are now rare and are the last remaining remnants  
> of a lost society. Legends and tales tell us the Pifaki people were known for their generous  
> spirits and kind deeds. These coins are a prime example. Their primary function was to  
> grant any wishes or desires the owner has for the benefit of others. The secondary  
> function is to bring luck to the owner. The more frequently the owner makes wishes for  
> others' benefit, the more luck the coin will bring to him.

Frak was oblivious to this information. He reached the seventh floor and headed for Matt Green's office as instructed. He knocked and entered.

"Frak, good to see you," the vampire said. "I just wanted to let you know, things with the business haven't been too good lately, and if they don't improve soon I'm probably going to have cut down how many nights a week you come in and clean for us. I don't want to, you understand, but I need to keep an eye on our costs until business picks back up."

"No, no, Mr Green, I understand, you know," Frak reassured him. "You just say when, and I'll just come in three nights a week instead." Privately, he hoped business did pick up. Matt Green might be a vampire, and a soulless one at that, but he had a good head for business and certainly put in more hours than most others. He deserved to do well.

"Thanks Frak, you're a champion," Green said. "Tell you what, as a consolation you can grab a scratch card on your way out."

An email alert chimed on Green's computer as Frak left the office. Green skimmed the email before punching a fist into the air in victory. Not only had a client accepted his proposal, they wanted him to take on another project for them as well. It was in a different area to Green's main expertise, but it could lead to some interesting opportunities. Maybe he could stop worrying about the budget after all.

Frak paused at the receptionist's empty desk on his way out, and reached into the large glass fish bowl. He knew Green kept a bunch of $1 and $2 scratch cards there to offer to clients -it was a bit different and a bit of fun which left a final good impression after what could be a boring business meeting. He pulled out a $1 'Patriot Cash' Scratcher. He chuckled to himself as he scratched it, but stopped when he realised he'd won. In fact, he'd won the $1000 top prize. He was stunned for a moment, and re-read the instructions twice just to make sure.

He chuckled to himself again before shoving the card in his pocket. His hand bumped against the coin, and he pulled it out to look at it again. Maybe it was lucky after all, he thought. He put it away again and headed down to the cleaning supplies closet, whistling as he went.


End file.
